


The Brightest Bloom is The Rarest of All

by TheEldritchSmilodon



Series: Modern Legends [1]
Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Asexual!Camellia, Asexual!Jonathan Reid, Blood Drinking, Canon Mute Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Multi, Older Man/Younger Woman, Period-Typical Sexism, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Vampires, Weird Plot Shit, Why Did I Write This?, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 10:04:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEldritchSmilodon/pseuds/TheEldritchSmilodon
Summary: Morrigan is not the only threat to the flu torn City of London. Even the dead fear the shadowed web that ties the fall of King Arthur to a young mute girl on the run from her past.





	1. The Language of flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no clue where this came from. I had just finished the game and was thinking on how I really wished I could learn more about Camellia's backstory(being a mystery and all) and wondered how she talked to people, then I remembered that at this time(-Ish) flowers and their meanings where quite popular. I decided to look it up and found what they mean, which got me thinking 'what if that's how she talked to Jonathan?' which turned into 'what if they where into each other' which became 'OMG that's so SWEEET, I need to write this!!!!' plus add magic and witchcraft just because.  
> But honestly, I was just curious how it would play out.  
> Thus, here we are.  
> If you want to,let me know what you think (keep in mind I am not a writer, nor do I claim to be) I'm kinda interested in what peoples opinions are.  
> Peace, Smilo :)  
> P.s sorry if dialog is cringey, I don't have a beta.

“Take this, Mr Nithercott, and do try to get some sleep”

“I thank you Dr Reid, you are most kind!” Richard declared bowing his head for added dramatic effect. Jonathan allowed himself a small smile, though it did not _quite_ reach his eyes. Bidding the cheery poet farewell, he strode swiftly out of the graveyard and into the near empty street, searching for the nearest post-box. Mr Petrescu’s abandoned letter had to be near. He hesitantly plucked the small bit of paper out of a nearby bin. He was surprised to find it still eligible, despite being partially damp from the constant Whitechapel gloom and carefully tucked it into his coat pocket. Finally, he had everything he needed. Petrescu had to let him in now, Nurse Crane, or Craciunescu as he had earlier discovered, had some explaining to do. The doctor turned to leave, but something caught him from the corner of his eye. What was a florist doing open at this hour of the night? Jonathan’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Oddly, some of the flower pots on the shop windowsill looked displaced and tampered with, like something was hidden inside them. Sure enough the surgeon was right. Stooping down to investigate, a note could be seen peeking out between the leafy green stems.

Curiosity gripped him. Tugging to free it, the clay pot started to wobble, tip and then fall. Wide eyed, the startled doctor desperately reached to catch it, cringing as it smashed loudly onto the cobblestone street. The rest of the pots soon followed. In a matter of seconds, half the shops colourful display was lost beneath the thick London muck. Guilt tingled up his spine as he stood there wondering what on earth to do, the troublesome leaflet still clutched in his hand. Jonathan’s dismayed thoughts where abruptly cut short by something hard and jagged flying into the side of his head. With an undignified grunt, he stumbled in surprise, but luckily saved himself from further embarrassment. Pausing to gingerly feel the forming bruise atop his temple, Jonathan swivelled on his heels to face his assailant. Like a storm about to break, a furious looking redhead came marching towards him, her delicate and pretty features twisted into a deep war like scowl.

The doctor quickly snatched the projectile, a worn-out old book on the language of flowers, off the ground. Its corner was now dented due to the painful collision with his head. The girl came to a sudden halt in front of the carnage, her fits trembling with rage and her emerald eyes brimmed with hot tears. Thinking quickly, Jonathan stuffed the book into his pocket and replaced it with a large sum of money.

“Please miss, let me pay for damages-“He began softly. The girl remained deathly silent. Her piercing glare shifted from his unhealthily pale face to the crumpled note in his hand. Completely ignoring the money, she grabbed the paper from him and stormed off into her shop, the following door slam echoing in the night air and hurting his sensitive vampire hearing. Still slightly shaken, Jonathan continued on his journey with an increased sense of urgency. The night wasn’t going to last forever.

* * *

He was gone. Jonathan had lost another patent lost to this damned epidemic. The young Ekon’s gums ached painfully as his fangs slowly receded back into their hidden place inside his mouth, the result of the overbearing stench of fresh blood that permeated the entire clinic. It seemed to follow him around where ever he went, leaving a coppery taste on his tounge.

“Is this how the war went?! Piling up one poor corpse beside the next?” The nurse jeered, staring mournfully at her fallen patent.

“This was not an influenza-induced seizure; I have never seen symptoms like these on the continent...” Jonathan corrected still a little short of breath. His brow furrowed in concentration, trying incredibly hard to ignore the blood now staining his hands.

“Neither have I, but the symptoms leading up to this attack where the same, indistinguishable from the epidemic”

“No, there was something more vile in these convulsions. Something primitive”

The woman did not seem convinced by his statement. Turing away, she began to clear the table of surgical instruments.

“There have been numerus reports of mental break downs caused by the fever that accompanies the flu itself, doctor” She returned, bringing the basin to a nearby counter top. Jonathan eyed the body with an idea starting to form in his head. A syringe appeared from his coat pocket.

“Yes-But-I’d best take some samples of the blood for analysis…” The surgeon mumbled, drawing as much as the small thing would allow. Filled, it disappeared once more. Maybe this man blood held the answers he so desperately needed. It was then Jonathan noticed the bright blue bud of wolf’s bane growing out of cracks in the counter top, partially hidden by the nurse’s busy form. He opened his mouth to comment, but Dorothy swiftly cut him off.

“I knew you would be coming, Dr Reid, and now I wish to know why you are here”

“You knew I would find you? How?”

“Camellia sent word ahead of you…right after you destroyed her shop” The nurse deadpanned, a displeased twist to her mouth. She then chucked him a rag to clean his hands. The bottom of Jonathan’s stomach twinged with guilt and embarrassment in equal measures, his eyes unable to meet hers.

“Ah so that was her name. News travels fast- and I’ll have you know it was an accident!” He objected, wiping the blood from his hands. A joyless laugh escaped from the nurse’s lips.

“Oh I know Doctor, but you haven’t answered my question”

“I have come to put an end to this insufferable blackmail Dorothy”

“That’s it? You think your warnings scare me? I have stolen and plied, blackmailed and lied, but what am I to do? I’m all these people have” She stressed, a desperate tone creeping into her voice with each word. Desperation was something Jonathan had come to understand deeply from these recent nights. Handing back the rag, he finally turned to face her.

“You have convinced me of the sincerity of your actions and its noble justifications, but even so, blackmail is a crime and it will stop Nurse Crane” The woman seemed to deflate slightly at his words.

“So, are you going to hand me over to the authorities?”

 “No…” He sighed “Your place is here, jailing you would be an even greater crime, so here is my…proposition; I’ll look the other way on your little…enterprise…In exchange you will resign from the Pembroke Hospital and provide me with medical supplies when the need arises” Dorothy’s brow shot to her hair line and her lips parted in surprise.

“So it's lose everything or make a deal with the devil? Not a lot of choice, Dr Reid"

“I assure you, nurse Crane, I do not want your soul, but your cooperation would be appreciated” He mused, a small smirk tugging on his lips. The woman folded her arms boldly, her spirit renewed.

“That remains to be seen” She mumbled “but in any case, I...I accept”

“I am glad to hear it, Dorothy” He agreed, holding out his hand for the Romanian to shake.

“One last thing doctor” She began, retuning the gesture. “Be sure to apologise to Camellia, she goes through enough as it is. Consider it my only condition for accepting”. Jonathan frowned in confusion.

“But, I did. I offered to pay for it and she refused to take it” He explained, but Dorothy only laughed, for real this time.

“She doesn’t want your money, Doctor, She wants an apology. A proper one”

“Then what should I do?”

“I’m sure you will think of something” The nurse admitted with a shrug, walking past him into her private room. Alone with his thoughts, Jonathan scanned his brain for anything that might ease things over with the angry florist, but nothing great came to mind. For once in his life the surgeon had no idea what to do. Suddenly he remembered that the book she had thrown was still in his pocket and patted his coat to find it. The doctor might just have an idea after all.

* * *

As the long night drew on and the hours crawled passed, Camellia afforded herself a short break and sat down on the edge of the curb. A warm cup of tea soothed the frozen numbness of her dirt covered hands. The shop was empty and the street was clear, much to her relief, but the floor was still strewed with the crumpled remains of her display. All thanks to that nosy stranger. The redhead scowled into her cup as she sipped, still annoyed about what happened. She had calmed down quite a bit now, and guilt had begun to bloom in her stomach at throwing her book at him. It was an accident after all, and he didn’t _seem_ to be a bad man. Taking in a deep lungful of the night air, Camellia shut her eyes and tried to imagine herself far from London, the war and the epidemic.

France, Italy, the Americas and Asia, so many places in this big wide world for her to see and do. Maybe one day, she would be free again. Sighing loudly, she picked herself up and moved to the back of the darkened shop. Lighting a candle, Camellia set about arranging bouquet’s for the following day, humming silently to herself as she did. A few minutes passed before the shops doorbell chimed loudly, announcing whoever had just entered. The redhead’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Who would go shopping at this hour? Carefully she peered from around the back room door. The building remained silent, except for the sounds of her anxious breathing and the gentle breeze across the windows. Curious, the florist left her hiding spot. On top of the counter next to the till, lay her returned book, a flower and hand written note placed carefully beside it. The flower she instantly recognised.

**Purple hyacinth, its meaning: I am sorry.**

Camellia held the plant softly in her hand, quietly admiring its bright violet colour. With her other hand she carefully opened the precisely folded letter, written in a flowing hand.

_Dear Miss Camellia_

_I wish to apologise for ruing your display and interfering in your business with Nurse Crane, though you should know that she and I have come to a rather profitable arrangement regarding the dispensary. I understand that a note is not the most sincere way to ask for forgiveness, but I have been called away to other things and have been pressed for time. This was the best I could do._

_Please forgive me._

_Doctor Jonathan Reid, Surgeon at the Pembroke Hospital_

The bud of guilt in her stomach only grew having read it. But it did not stop her face from breaking out into a warm smile. Nearby, the bells chimed at the final stroke of midnight, ending her long shift, and prompting her to close up shop. The short walk in the dark to her modest flat was thankfully uneventful, slipping past the armed patrols and crazed flu victims with great ease and grace.

By the time she had pried open her front door, Camellia felt ready to sleep for the rest of her remaining days. Yawning involuntary, she gently placed Dr Reid’s gift into its own glass of water and poised it lovingly on top of the mantelpiece. Slipping into her night dress, she paused in front of her cracked old mirror and carefully untied the pendent that hung snugly around her neck. A pentagram carved into a small black stone. She held it for a moment, tracing with her finger its five sharp edges.

The old and familiar sting of shame reared it's head, promoting her to chuck the pendant into her bed side table. Unpinning her hair from its auburn bun, Camellia climbed solemnly into bed. Sleep had never found her easily.The threats around her only grew with each miserable night, preventing her from ever really resting. At last her eyes slipped closed. Her mind was soon to be filled with the hazy visions of things yet to come.


	2. A Wytch's mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll send a storm  
> to capture your heart  
> and bring you home.  
> Ooh carry on the breeze  
> you'll never find me, gone.  
> Oh faster than the post train  
> burning like a slow flame on,  
> I'll send a storm  
> to capture your heart  
> and bring you home.  
> -Storm Song by Phildel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo!, a plot! were did that come from? and were the hell dose it go from here? Who knows? 'cause I don't. :)  
> But seriously I started thinking about what witches would be like in this universe and how they would fit into the game and/or world and this is the result. Of course then my twisted little head makes up a whole load of lore to go with it. *sigh*Oh well.  
> **WARNING**  
> There is a very very small Non-con kiss that happens later on in the chapter, (not Jon and Camellia) Its not as bad as it sounds but I thought id warn people anyway.  
> And I forgot to say that I don't own Vampyr, obviously.

The rain fell like a saddening grey haze around him, as if his mood had been given form and released into the world itself. Jonathan sat alone. St Mary’s church loomed behind him, rainwater running like rivers on the steps he slumped on. Swallowing the persistent dry lump in his throat, the surgeon’s thoughts wandered to the unfortunate events of the past hour; confessing his crimes to that priest, and attending the funeral of the sister he had unwillfuly murdered.

‘ _My poor Mary’_

He had been fine until now, managing his grief with his research and healing people. Yet here he was. Close to tears and sitting on the steps of a place he couldn’t even enter to pray for her forgiveness.

Across the street, locking up her shop for the evening, Camellia noticed the dark hunched figure of the doctor from under her umbrella. Her brow furrowed. Why on earth was the poor man sitting in the rain all alone at this hour? Her good nature, and bad judgement, finally got the better of her. Jonathan was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice her until she sat down beside him.

“Hello again, Miss” He mumbled hoarsely, forcing a polite smile to ghost across his lips. Camellia seemed to pick up on this. Her look of worry deepened.

“I see you’re still not talking to me-”

‘ _Wait, he doesn’t know?’_ she pondered. Surely Dorothy must have mentioned it. Placing a hand on his shoulder and turning him to fully look at her, Camellia gently tapped the soft skin of her throat in the hopes of him understanding what she meant. Jonathan’s pale eyes narrowed slightly. The realization dawned slowly across his face.

“Your…mute?”

The redhead nodded, a touch of sadness hidden in her eyes. A sudden twinge of embarrassment shot through him.

“I-Um-sorry I-“He began, only for the girl to casually wave it away with an understanding smile. It’s then the sky opened. The pair suddenly jolted by an enormous clap of thunder.

‘ _I don’t fancy staying out here much longer, but I can’t just leave the poor man here’_ Camellia thought to herself _,_ looking up at the increasingly violent sky. The doctor seemed to think so as well. Unsteadily he got to his feet. It was going to be a long tiring walk back to the Pembroke.

_Great._

“Well I best be going, Goodbye miss” Jonathan added quietly, starting to drift in the hospitals direction. Camellia watched him walk a few paces. Her mind conflicted. With a quiet sigh, she stood and went after him, tapping the doctor softly on the shoulder. He turned to glance at her over his shoulder and appeared confused when she beckoned him to follow. Jonathan seemed to think it over, before deciding that he had nothing better to do.

“Lead the way miss” He agreed, coming to stand next to the young florist under her umbrella. They walked in a comfortable silence. The storm became heavier as the pair reached the flat, soaking them and causing Camellia to hurriedly enter her home. The doctor froze. He peered down at the doors threshold; the force preventing him in was unusually strong. Like an impenetrable wall of dark energy. The girl noticed his reluctance to enter and swiftly motioned for him to come in. Jonathan could feel the energy subside, allowing him to cross. Warmth at last.

“Thank you miss” He began as Camellia took his coat and draped it over a chair next to the fire. Sitting down on the same chair, that’s when he saw the flower.

“I see you got my gift”

The girl blushed. She quickly scurried off and came back a few moments later with two steaming cups of tea. He thanked her. Even though he could not drink it, it was nice to have something hot to warm his hands. Jonathan took this moment to study his hostess as she sat across from him. Her soft and gentle features, compared to his sharp and strong ones, spoke of her youth. Yet there was an intelligent glint in her pale emerald eyes, that he had no doubt rivalled his own. Her hair seemed to be aflame as the light from the fireplace glowed like a bright heavenly light around her head, like a halo. She sipped daintily on her cup, her eyes gazing deeply into the merrily dancing flames. Even Jonathan had to admit she was naturally pretty, though he would not normally think such things about his patients. Pushing those thoughts aside, the surgeon decided to break the silence.

“So, miss, you live here by yourself?” He asked. The girl nodded.

“How do you survive? I mean being unable to speak?”

To answer his question, Camellia simply shrugged with a small smile. Jonathan couldn’t help but smile back. After a few moments the girl pointed to him with her mug then tapped her ear, looking at him expectantly. The doctor caught on quickly.

“…Are you saying you want to know more about me?” Again, another nod.

“Well-um-I'm not very interesting, but very well” He began, leaning back in the chair. Camellia listened attentively as he spoke of his life, the war and everything in-between. Before they knew it the hours had passed, taking the storm with it. The clock chimed midnight. Jonathan realised this with a start, hurriedly setting down his mug.

“Goodness, is that the time! I must be leaving now miss” He announced, shrugging on his now dry coat. Camellia seemed to think for a moment, then darted away to retrieve something. When she came back, in her hand she held a small yellow rose. The flower of friendship. Jonathan grinned as he gently took her gift, slipping it through the coats button hole.

“It’s beautiful, thank you…” admitted the doctor. Camellia beamed back at him, confirming that she forgave him. While he still felt grief, the surgeon left that evening with a considerable weight off his chest, and was grateful for it. He smiled to himself, making a promise to check up on her whenever he could. And that he did. In the following weeks, Jonathan and Camellia spent many a night together, usually at her home or wandering around St Mary’s church until he had to leave again. Each time she would gift him the yellow rose, as a symbol of their growing friendship. Both Edgar and Lady Ashbury would comment on the flower when he forgot to take it off, and question where he got it from. Every time he would just shrug and say a friend gave it to him. Neither would believe him. Camellia on the other hand, was continually being warned by Dorothy to stay away from the good doctor, stemming from the woman’s lingering distrust. But like all things, both bad and good, it wasn't to last forever.

* * *

Camellia stared down at her wrist, its veins blackened, twisted and corrupt. Her wytch’s mark.

Her brand of shame.

Quickly pulling down her sleeve, the redhead brought everything inside the shop, making sure no one saw. On the counter one of the display bouquets suddenly started to wilt of its own accord. She frowned. That was odd; they had only just been cut. Camellia took the dead flowers to the back to dispose off them, but when she returned, every plant in the building started to rot from the inside out. She glanced around, somewhat shocked, and searched for the source. At that moment, all lights in view where snuffed out, plunging her into sudden darkness. Something stirred within it. Disembodied whispers brushed past the shell of her ears, freezing her in that spot. Out of the blackness, a figure formed. Tall and ancient. Even though it did not have a face, Camellia could tell that it was staring straight at her, as it flickered in and out of existence.

“Hello, my child” It greeted, its voice a distant echo. The girl’s heart pounded loudly in her chest. The shadow seemed to notice this, tipping its head to the side inquisitively.

“You do not recognise me? Ah, but you were so young when we first met, of course”

 _What do you want from me? Who are you?_ Camellia yelled internally. The thing apparently heard her thoughts.

“Who am I? You should know that I have many names. To the Greeks I was Hecate, to the Celts I was Cerridwen. But to you, my child, I am Morgaine” It began. The florist frowned despite herself.

“Ah, you remember now, good”

Yes, how could she forget the event that made her like this, the god-forsaken ritual that made her a wytch. The pain as her voice was taken from her and the corruption stained forever in her veins. Being one of the youngest ever to undergo the transformation.

“It is that very reason, my dear, why I am here”

‘ _What do you want from me?!?’_

“The coven is close, my child, and I WILL NOT have one of my favourite children hunted down and killed by her once loyal brothers and sisters” It declared. Anger seemed to radiate from its ghostly form.

 _‘Then what do I do?’_  

“Follow me, and I shall guide your way” With that Morgaine floated silently out of the shop. Camellia followed hesitantly behind. Out of Whitechapel and into the very heart of London, the girl began to notice that people no longer looked in their direction. As if they weren’t there at all. Flu victims that would normally run after anyone that got too close completely ignored her as they passed. Camellia didn’t seem comforted by that thought though. Finally they reached the docks, Morgaine pausing at the edge to gaze down into the water.

“Come and stand with me child” It beckoned. The young florist nervously did as asked.

_‘Why are we here?’_

“Because this is the beginning of your second re-birth”

 _‘My what?!?’_ She thought, glaring wide eyed up at the figure. The shadows head turned to gaze down at her, a face starting to mold from the darkness. It smiled at her, as a mother would at her daughter.

“Do not worry, unlike my brother, I do not abandon my children at birth”

_‘Why me?!?’_

“All shall be revealed when the time is right, but for now, you must embrace your fate, my dear Camellia” With that, Morgaine stooped down and kissed the girl with deathly lips. Camellia quickly pulled away. But the dark magic had already taken hold. Stumbling backwards, she fell into the ink black water, her body sinking like it was made of stone. The numbing cold hit her lungs, robbing her of the precious air that was left, and darkness clouded her vision. Camellia’s short life flashed before her eyes, the corruption spreading like an ancient and terrible fire in her veins.

_Welcome to your new world, my child_

* * *

Not too far away, in the heart of Southwark, a black clad woman stood scrying in a dark bowl of water. Images flicked across its surface, but none where what she was looking for. Across the room a door opened and one of her many apprentices entered.

“My lady, have you had any success?” He quizzed timidly, keeping his back to the wall.

“No! That little red-haired rat has something powerful obscuring my vision!” The woman spat through blackened teeth. The apprentice gulped as bead of sweat rolled down his neck.

“Are you sure she even came here? We don’t even know-“

“SILENCE! She IS here, I can feel it. Now leave me be” She snapped over her shoulder, causing the young man to promptly flee the room. The woman sat in silence for a few moments, the white hot rage bubbling just beneath her grey cracked skin. In a sudden fit of anger she swatted the bowl to the floor, breaking it into many small sharp pieces.

“Oh my dear Camellia, you cannot hide from me forever. This I swear!”


	3. Breath of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was looking for a breath of life  
> A little touch of heavenly light  
> But all the choirs in my head sang no  
> To get a dream of life again  
> A little of vision of the start and the end  
> But all the choirs in my head sang no  
> -Breath of Life by Florence & The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay finally! another one!  
> (Sorry if the chapter ending sounds rushed)

Everything was black. It enclosed around her like a comforting blanket, protecting her from the stark harshness of the outside world. Like a distant dream.

_Awake my child_

Camellia struggled to pry open her eyes. She found herself lying on her back, dress torn and hair unravelled, staring up at the evening sky from one of the many embankments down the river Thames. Muck filled her lungs and she found that she couldn’t move. Something hard prodded at her stomach.

“Over ‘ere, I’ve found something!”

The squelching sounds of multiple footfalls surrounded her still form, each one accompanied with the distinctive click of metal on metal. It seemed they were armed.

“…Poor girl…” someone mumbled, meekly nudging her head with their boot.

“Do ya think it was the flu?”

“Na, looks more-um-Well I don’t know, I’m no doctor!”

“Should we tell McCullum?”

“Maybe, we should search her though…just in case”

“I’m not touching her! What if it’s contagious!?!”

“Don’t be such a-Wait…do you hear that?” Everyone went silent. At that moment the wind started to pick up, bringing with it the sound of a thousand deathly voices. They all looked at each other in disbelief. Suddenly, one of them began to choke loudly, his lungs filling up with a black tar like substance. The others around him backed away, terrified, watching as he dropped to the ground and quickly suffocated to death. Two others soon followed him. The rest found themselves unable to move, the inky corruption winding like morbid pythons around their fear frozen bodies. Camellia watched helplessly as they were all pulled screaming beneath the muck. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she lay there, paralyzed.

_Do not weep for them, my child. They wouldn’t do the same for you_

From the void, Morgaine came forward, and protectively draped her in a cloak of shadow. Finally her body started to thaw, feeling returning to her extremities.

_I told you I would not abandon you_

Morgaine sat down beside her and gently cradled the girls head in her lap. Camellia was surprised at how relived she seemed to feel. For half an hour they waited. The sludge in her chest cast out by her body in a fit of energy, as the entity wiped her face clean.

“We must go now dear, London awaits” The shadow whispered, gently pulling her to her feet. Camellia struggled to balance herself, wobbling with every step like a new-born lamb. Morgaine held her up right, cooing soft words of encouragement into her ear. The pair carefully picked their way across the bank, heading in the direction of the docks warehouses and streets. It was then that the girl saw her reflection in a shops window as they passed. She tried to scream. But of course no sound came out. Staring back at her, were irises devoid of colour set in eyes of darkest coal. Her once fair skin and red hair were now as white as sun bleached bone. It was as if all life and colour had been drained from her body and soul. Leaving her hollow. All except for the corruption that stained her veins a deep and visible shade of ebony.

“The price wytches pay are numerous, but as are the rewards my dear”

_‘I never wanted this!’_

“I know, but it is the only way you will survive the coming nights” Morgaine emphasised solemnly, pulling her along. Camellia could not bear to look at herself any longer.

_‘What happens now?’_

“Now, my child, I show you the ways of the death wytch” She replied, drawing her into the shadows of a nearby street. The wraith pointed her gaze to the busy pub across the road. **Bang**. The door slammed loudly as a patron stormed out, coming to a stop on the empty street corner. The man stuck a crumpled cigarette between his teeth and lit it. His gaze filled with rage. Morgaine backed away, allowing her to stand on her own.

“Do you see him? Good. Use your gifts to peer deep into his heart”

 _‘But I can’t!’_ She protested, bracing herself against the wall.

“Yes you can! Concentrate!”

Taking a deep breath, she steadied her mind, pushing her fear aside. Camellia felt something in her brain twitch and her vision grew a cold grey. The man’s form seemed to pulse with energy. Under her wretched gaze, his soul bloomed open, revealing shattered fragments of his life.

_…Fire is in his skin, in his hands and on his tongue. No one is safe from the flames, not even his family of two young sons and a wife he never loved…_

Camellia sucked in a breath as the visions subsided. Morgaine stooped down to whisper in her ear.

“His heart is rotten beyond redemption, go my child, give him the final sweet kiss of death!” With that, the shadow faded from view. Camellia was on her own for now. A foreign morbid haze settled in her mind, smothering her fear and lifting her above her doubt. She reached out to him from across the street. Tugging on the fibres of his soul. The man shivered as a deep chill ran through his bones. His eyes scanned for the cause. He turned to see her standing there, bathed in radiant moon light, and beckoning him to follow her. Enchanted by her otherworldly glow, he obediently did as commanded. Taking him by the hand, she led him like she would a lover to a secluded spot away from prying eyes, pulling him into her embrace. His mind was now completely consumed by her spell. Camellia smiled ghoulishly, gently cupping his bewitched face in her hands, before delivering the final kiss. Her victim did not struggle nor try to stop her. A great river of energy passed from his lips to hers, invigorating every fibre of her being. His body began to weaken and was soon left depleted of life. She let the corpse slump to the ground, devilishly relishing the euphoric buzz that surged through her veins. Such power. In that moment the high slowly subsided and the grey haze lifted. Realisation came creeping up her spine. She froze.

_‘What have I done?...’_

Nausea gripped her as she stared down at her first victim, his body as pale and hollow as her own. Trembling, she covered her mouth in a fit of self-disgust. Camellia began to weep. She cried for him, for herself, and the final loss of her fractured innocence. The girl ran from the scene, stumbling in her panic, through the darkened streets. Coming to a halt, she tried desperately to catch her breath. But she ended up choking on air instead. Camellia continued to wander aimlessly, her mind still in deep shock. Eventually exhaustion got the better of her as she slumped down in a doorway to rest. Staring blankly down at her own distorted reflexion in a puddle, she was both equally amazed and horrified to see that colour had returned to her features. As if nothing had ever happened. She let her hair fall across her face with a sigh, leaning her head against the wall. The girl shut tight her eyes.

 _‘This is a nightmare’_ she thought as footsteps approached.

“Are you alright Miss?” someone asked in a heavy Irish accent. Camellia peered meekly up at the stranger. He had a pale kindly face and red hair like her, with a worn cross hung around his neck.

“Goodness! You look like you’ve had a rough night! My name is Sean Hampton, do you need help?” He exclaimed squatting down in front of her. Worry shone in his eyes. She had heard of him before, The Sad Saint of the East-end. He was one of the few selfless people in London, alongside Dorothy of course. Out of options, Camellia nodded tiredly and allowed him to help her up. Her new senses could not feel an ounce of malice in the man’s pure soul. He could definitely be trusted.

_…The gentle heart in his chest bleeds for all around him. Though it pains him there are still those beyond his help, despite being gifted God’s eternity…_

“Come now, I’ll find you somewhere to rest” he encouraged her as they crossed the market to the old factory turned night asylum. Relief filled her heart as they crossed the threshold. Sean carefully guided her to the back of the building, setting her down on a bed far from the others staying here. At least she had some privacy. It was then that another tenant popped her head around the corner of the separating screen.

“Is everything alright Mr Hampton? Who is this?”

“Ah Lottie, if you would be so kind as to go fetch some clean clothes for the poor woman?”

“Of course Sir” She replied quickly, disappearing once more. The saint turned back to his charge, seemingly checking her for injury.

“What happened to you miss?” He inquired softly. Camellia could only shrug half heartily, a dazed look still on her face. Sean gave her a small smile of pity.

“It’s alright miss, nothing will happen to you here” He assured her, passing the new bundle of clothes from his assistant to her.

“These might not be fancy, but they will keep you warm” Sean added. Camellia nodded in thanks.

“Do not hesitate to call on me if you need anything” With that he left her in privacy. The girl slowly peeled off her ruined attire, letting it fall to the floor. Its replacement was a plain grey cotton dress, charcoal coloured jacket and a pair of scuffed old leather boots. Instead of re pinning her hair, she decided to French braid it out of her face. At least now she was somewhat presentable.

Curling up into a ball on the bed, she could not help her thoughts roaming back to the man whose life she stole. Murderer. The word stuck in her mind like a disease. Is this what she is now? Cursed to be an agent of death? She could already feel the acquired energy being very slowly used up in staving off the corruption. Camellia felt fury bubble beneath her skin. How could Morgaine do this to her after she had gone a whole year with nothing but peace from magic? Of course she knew the coven would come after her when she fled, but even they wouldn’t dare rush into immortal territory. The risk of exposure was too great for most of them, the corruption preventing them from looking even human at times. She, on the other hand, could go unnoticed. Only Dorothy had managed to figure it out. Camellia put it down to the Romanian’s inherent knowledge of witchcraft from her homeland’s old occultist beliefs.

Not even Jonathan-Dr Reid could tell something was amiss. Even after their many nights walking together. She didn’t know why but something about the man made her feel on edge despite her growing fondness for him. Maybe her new ‘gifts’ could help her there.

 _‘No! Do not give into it’_ She scolded herself as she rolled over to face the wall. If what Morgaine had said was true, then the coven was already in London. Camellia had planned to take ship to America. But her limited funds were not enough to secure passage. Finding work at the flower shop had been her only other choice. Her small flat had been a lucky find, as the landlord allowed her to pay it off bit by bit, a good place to hide. It seemed like she was probably stuck here, and backed far into a corner. Camellia was so tired of running. A bud of defiance took root in her chest.

_‘If this is to be my last stand then I will be ready for them. Mother will never have me again. And even if I did not chose to be this, I can decide whose lives I now take’_

From that moment on, the lonely mute girl made a vow to never let **anyone** take advantage of her or anybody else ever again. For the first time in her life, Camellia finally felt free.

* * *

The Pembroke was filled to the brim with patients. It was all hands on deck for the staff, every nurse and doctor on duty franticly juggling several people at once. Jonathan was surprised to find even Edgar had stepped in to help. Tapping him gently on the shoulder, the smaller man snapped round to face him.

“Oh thank goodness, Jonathan! We need everyone we can get!”

“Edgar, what’s going on?!?” He exclaimed as doctor Swansea guided them to a more privet location.

“In short, mass hallucination”

“What!?!”

“About every patient coming in this night is complaining of having highly distressing visions, of the dead coming back to warn them” Edgar explained worriedly. Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What’s being done to help them?”

“Well without knowing what is causing these hallucinations, our hands are tied. Mabey it is left over fever from the flu? I don’t know, your help would be appreciated” He suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. Jonathan sighed.

“Alright just give me a minuet to get my things” he said dashing upstairs to his office. Closing the door behind him, he tossed his coat and jacket aside. Rummaging through his workbench he found the tools he needed to conduct an examination. At that moment the hairs on the back of neck stood up. He was not alone.

“Who’s there?” He demanded. Silence. Turning around slowly, the young ekon scanned the room. No one was there. With a huff he made his way to the door, only for his hand to freeze on the handle. In the mirror hung on the wall, a black figure stood beside him, that appeared blurred and out of focus. Its mouth opened.

“Hello brother”

* * *

After a few minutes of loud knocking, the door opened to reveal the face of an angry Romanian. Her fury quickly tuned to joy as she realised who it was standing on the step.

“Camellia?!? Oh my god you’re alive!” the nurse cheered, pulling the redhead into a tight hug. Her witch sense activated once again.

 _…She is strong when staring in the very face of death. If only she knew how often it looked at her back…_  

“Me, Dr Reid and half of Whitechapel had been out looking for you!”

The girl frowned, She had only been gone a night, and had only spent a few hours resting at the night shelter with Mr Hampton. Dorothy seemed to notice her confusion.

“Wait, you do know that you have been missing for over two months?”

 _‘What!?! No! How?’_ her brow shot upwards. Nurse Crane pulled her inside out of the cold, and sat her down on a vacant bed. Camellia could feel her fear crawl up her spine once more. Her breath quickened.

“I am so sorry my friend, but I manged to save most of your belongings from your flat, in case we found you. The landlord thought you were… dead” She continued sadly, pointing to some nearby boxes. The girl shot over in a panic and began to franticly search through her belongings for something.

‘ _Please, please be here! Yes!’_ She thought as she held up a small but thick leather bound book. At least she had something of importance left. Camellia slumped down to the ground as Dorothy placed a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

“…Just know, I’m here if you need me, and you are free to stay in the dispensary as long as you need, my friend” The nurse added solemnly. The girl, no, wytch felt the bubble of defiance bloom once more. She hugged and nodded her thanks to her friend, before striding out the door. Camellia had a lot of work to do.


	4. The Ruby Skull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night, she calls me  
> She calls me, she calls me  
> She calls me, she calls me  
> She sways in her velvet dress  
> And pulls me towards her in the dark  
> While the others rest
> 
> it just seems very strange to me  
> Not her quiet lonely streets  
> And draped in all her mystery  
> Could be so sweet and comforting  
> -The Night by Voltaire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo sorry this took so long, was really busy recently. Anyway enjoy :)  
> **WARNINGS**  
> Description of injury and a wee bit of gore

She watched for hours. Sitting just out of view of the street. Patrons came and went through the glossy red doors of the west ends most exclusive establishment; The Ruby Skull Society. A burlesque club for the rich and entitled. Before she had fled, the others in the coven had talked of this place repeatedly. It was obviously important. Her new senses could feel that something was different. An unknown darkness stained the very foundation of the building, invisible to non-wytch eyes. It seemed to linger in places where those not human gather, following them like a deathly aura. This was it. Her prey was inside. Camellia faded into the shadows, silently slipping past the bouncer stoically standing guard at the door. The smell of sweet and spicy Indian incense hit her as soon as she crossed the threshold. Looming out of the dark, the walls shimmered with deep crimson and gold in the dim candle light.

Camellia snuck along the empty corridor, cringing every time the floor boards creaked. Voices could be heard ahead. The sound muffled by a great scarlet curtain. Peering out between the folds her eyes widened in awe. The earthy smoke of tobacco swirled around the legs of the many candle lit tables, each one covered in deep red Chinese silk. Then there was the stage. It was the centre piece of the entire room, backed by exquisitely painted murals of robust classical figures. In her state of amazement, the young wytch failed to realise that someone had come up behind her.

“Excuse me!? What are you doing? The auditions are that way dear” a sharply dressed gentleman demanded. She jumped out of her skin. Camellia peered up at his extensively groomed face, before looking franticly around for the exit. This was a bad idea. The man rolled his eyes dramatically, pushing her towards the door labelled ‘backstage’. Shoving her inside, she was met with a room filled with finely dressed young women.

“Take this time to get ready, your all on in two minutes” He added, disappearing out the door again.

Everyone turned to glare in her direction. Suddenly very aware of her less than stellar attire, the wytch swallowed the lump in her throat, gingerly making her way to the back of the room. Bodies moved from her path as she felt their eyes burrowing into her back. Sitting down away from the others she plotted her escape.

 _‘What was I thinking? I have no idea what I’m doing!’_ Her thoughts where cut off by the sound of someone clapping loudly for attention.

_‘What now?’_

 A heavily made up woman strutted to the front of the crowd. An intimidating aura followed in her wake.

“Alight you lot listen up! My name is Eileen, and only a few of you will be chosen today-“ She began, surveying the group. The woman eyed Camellia for unusually long time, making the girl squirm uncomfortably.

“-So do your best to impress us. Follow me” With that she led the room out onto the stage. The young wytch bit her lip.

_Well this will go well…_

In the empty audience sat the man from before. He gazed out though the haze from his pipe. Beside him was one of the most beautiful women Camellia had ever seen. Platinum blond curls fell across her slim swan like shoulders and her lips were stained with rouge. Eileen sauntered over and beckoned the woman to stand.

“This is Sofia, she will show you what it takes to dance at the Ruby Skull” She declared as the woman glided on stage. Once ready, Sofia nodded to the awaiting band, which began to play a swift tango beat. An amazed mumble rose in the group. The woman moved with such fluidity and grace as her lilac dress flowed to the rhythm. Everyone was hypnotised. Camellia felt herself wanting to join her. To be able to move like her.

_…She is the wilting rose in a garden of thorns. If not now, she worries that she will soon be pruned…_

The whole room applauded as she finished, Eileen coming to stand beside her.

“Thank you dear. Now it’s your turn my lovelies!” She announced with a smirk, signalling the band again.

_‘Trial by fire then? Great…’_

The other girls obediently did as asked as Eileen and Sofia sat back down. Camellia tried, and failed, to do the same. Her face grew hot as she stumbled again. And again. And again. The sting of embarrassment crawling up her spine. Sofia mumbled something to her colleges, her eyes stilled on the Wytch. The two others seemed to contemplate for a second before nodding in agreement. The song finally came to a close. A wave of relief washed over her as they were all pulled off stage. Just as she was making a dash for the exit, a hand grabbed her arm.

“Just a moment dear, I need a word…” Eileen told her, dragging her to the table. Camellia hesitantly sat on the offered chair across from them, her hands nervously twisting the hem of her coat. A lump grew in her throat.

“Listen love, me, Sofia and Lewis have decided to offer you a job. Despite that…performance...you did up there-”She began. The girl’s eyes dropped to her lap.

“It would be a shame to lose a pretty face like yours, so, we want you to be a waitress instead”

Camellia’s brow raised in surprise. She hadn’t expected her to get a job! Lewis decided to add to the conversation, letting out a huff of smoke.

“It’s not that hard a job. Just bring the drinks where their wanted and we’ll pay you a good bit of bob” He said casually, refilling his pipe.

“So what do you say my dear?” Eileen continued, looking at her expectantly. The girl looked silently between them.

“A silent one? Even better!” Lewis quipped, earning him a slap on the arm.

“What? At least there’s no chance of her snitching…” He mumbled quietly to his partner.

Sofia rolled her eyes at him, sliding the job contract across the table. Camellia stared down at it. Something didn’t feel quite right.

 _‘I need to find out what’s going on here; this might be my why in! And some money wouldn’t hurt…’_ She thought to herself. Gingerly accepting the offered pen, the girl signed her name. Eileen grinned.

“Well then…Camellia…Welcome to The Ruby Skull” She declared, carefully tucking the paper into her pocket.

“Work starts tomorrow evening at half past eight, don’t be late!” The woman told her, escorting her out the door. The bouncer gave a nod of understanding as Eileen whispered something in his ear.

“Goodbye dear”

With that, Camellia was free to go. The young wytch pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders as she walked, to combat the sudden chill in the air. A few moments pasted. Out of the corner of her eye, a dark figure started to follow in her footsteps. In a bid to lose whoever it was, she turned down a side street. Snapping around, the girl was surprised to find no one behind her. Odd.

“Greetings my child”

Poor Camellia jumped out of her skin. Catching her breath, the wytch glared up at Morgaine.

_‘What do **you** want?’_

The entity tilted their head, seemingly confused.

“I have come to warn you-“

_‘-of the approaching danger yes I know’_

“I see you are still coming to terms with what you are” It replied. The wytches lips pulled into a snarl.

 _‘Which is what? A murderer?’_  

“No, my champion. You are a Necromancer”

* * *

Madness. Yes that’s what it was. Complete lunacy. Jonathan’s mind raced as he sped down the back streets of Whitechapel.

 _‘Mary, my dear sister, you returned to me. Why?’_ He thought, thinking back to the previous night. The ghostly image of his sister burned forever into his memory. And the haunting message she relayed.

 _“Look for Camlann my brother. Find the key!”_ She had whispered before fluttering out of existence. What did she mean? What key? Was that even real? So many questions left to answer. All of a sudden the Ekon stopped dead in his tracks. Something was not right. The harsh smell of burning filled the night air, blocking out every other sent. Jonathan scanned the nearby buildings for the sign of a fire. Nothing. Everything went deathly quiet.

“…Ekon…” A voice rasped. The doctor spun on his heel to face the source. His eyes widened. Standing in the middle of the street was what he thought was a woman, covered head to toe in black robes. She carefully removed her hood, revealing a face covered in cracked ash like skin. He could even see veins like hot lava sizzling beneath the surface. Energy hummed in the air around her.

“What are you?!?” He breathed, taking a step back. The woman laughed hoarsely. A black tar like substance gurgled in the back of her throat.

“I’m your executioner, new-born” She snarled wickedly. Orange and black eyes met pale blue and red as the two opponents stared each other down. Without warning the woman dashed forward. Jonathan just managed to doge her blade as it swiped pasted his head. Annoyed, the vampire slashed upwards with his claws, drawing blood. She stumbled backwards clutching the wound. The air began to crackle. Her head suddenly lit up in flame. With a roar she grabbed his sword arm, burning straight through his jacket. The doctor hissed as his skin sizzled under her touch. With his free hand he jerked her collar, exposing her neck. Jonathan latched on. The creature shrieked as his fangs sunk in, struggling in his iron grip. Each drop of blood seemed to fizz with energy as it poured down his throat. Such raw power. Jonathan’s head spun with the sudden burst of energy. Pulling free, the woman made another attempt to stab him. Her sword missed once again. Instead it punctured a nasty hole in the vampire’s coat. It appeared that she had underestimated his strength.

Regaining his composure, the surgeon quickly lashed out with his stake. With a sicking **crunch** , it buried itself deep in the creature’s chest, halting her in her tracks. Wide eyed the woman clawed at the protrusion, desperately trying to remove it. Jonathan did not give her the chance. With a final twist and yelp, the creature fell down onto the street; dead. He stood over the corpse.

 _‘What the hell was that?!?’_ he wondered. It was then that he realised that his hands where shaking. The woman’s blood buzzed through his body unlike anything he had felt before. Like lightning in his veins. Reaching into his pocket, the doctor produced an empty syringe, taking a sample of blood for later study. One final look and he was on his way. The surgeon still had an appointment to keep. Finally he reached his destination. Knocking on the dispensary door, Jonathan only had to wait a few seconds before Nurse Crane quickly rushed out the door, beckoning him to follow.

“Dorothy, I came as soon as I got your letter. What’s going on?” he quizzed, coming to walk beside her.

“It’s Camellia, Jonathan, she came back!” The Romanian exclaimed pulling on her coat. The Ekon’s eyes widened.

“Camellia?! She’s alive?! Oh thank god. Where is she?”

“I don’t know, she was here last night but then left again. I haven’t been able to go look for her until now”

“Do you have any idea where she’s gone?” He quizzed. Dorothy only shook her head.

“Sorry doctor, not a clue” She replied solemnly. Jonathan sighed, thrusting his hands in his pockets. As the pair came out into the street, a light dusting of snow began to fall from the heavens. The nurse let out a deep huff of breath, visible in the frosty air. They walked for a few more minutes.

“Wait-“Jonathan said suddenly. His companion stopped just as he did.

“What is it?”

“I-I don’t know…” The ekon replied. The familiar feeling of being watched washed over him. Instincts told him to turn around. He stared out into the thick shadows down the long ally in front of them. Something stirred within, drawing him in deeper. The shadows stared back. Through the dark and snow, a face appeared, illuminated by the moon light.

“Camellia?” He called hesitantly. Nurse Crane ran to engulf her in a hug once she was close enough, laughing in relief.

“My dear friend, please do not leave me like that again!” She cried, releasing her grip. Camellia gave her friend an apologetic smile, looking over the woman’s shoulder to Jonathan. Their eyes locked.

_…There is darkness in his heart that begs to be freed. He battles with it every waking moment of every single day, but sometimes it escapes. The guilt haunts him. Just like you…_

Her breath hitched in her throat. Whatever had prevented her from seeing it before suddenly crumbled into dust beneath her gaze. The wytch could now see the doctor for what he truly was. Dead eyes, pale flesh and breath as cold as ice.

A Vampyr.

Jonathan could sense that something was amiss. The girl’s once joyful green eyes now hollow of all life, her young heart slow and laboured. But there was something else. Just below her ivory skin a darkness, a corruption, burrowed deep into her bones. His gut screamed 'danger'.

 _'No! She is my friend. Dear Camellia is no threat'_ He told himself, pushing such thoughts aside. Dorothy began to notice the brewing tension.

"Well, we'd best get back to the dispensary" She spoke aloud, linking arms with the red head. The trio walked in an uncomfortable silence. Nurse Crane stood between them, acting as a sort of separateing wall. Camellia was torn over Jonathan. He was a good friend and confidant, but now so many things made sense. The strange murders had only started to happen once he showed up. First Mr Bates, then Seymour Fishburn at the docks and at least two other people in the west end. 

 _'Oh Jonathan, was it you? If so, well, we are more alike than i thought'_ She pondered sadly. Shame once again filled her heart. When she was a child, her mother would tell her stories of the great wytch hunts launched by the vampyr elite in hopes of obtaining their power filled blood. Such days where long passed. But the consequences were still being felt. 

* * *

"Down you go, beast!" He roared, impaling his sword hilt deep into its chest. The vulkod screamed before slumping to the ground. Another one vanquished. 

"McCullum!" One of his men shouted, running up behind him. The hunter wiped the Vampire blood off the blade with his sleeve.

"Is the area cleaned of leeches captain?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good, find out what they where guarding here and report if you find anything" Geoffrey commanded. The other man nodded, scampering off to spred the order. McCullum surveyed the warehouse floor, which was covered in wooden boxes. Each one baring the mark of the Ascalon club. Prying off one of the lids, the hunter discovered a horde of ancient looking artifacts. One caught his eye. He pulled off the brown protective covering. Underneath a thick layer of dust, a painting came into view. It depicted a battle between two medevil kings, one dressed in red, the other in black. Something about it seemed familiar to him. Maybe Geoffrey had seen it before? He couldn't say. Why would the leeches want this old thing? His thoughts were interrupted by the return of the captain.

"Sir! We've got something you'll want to see"

"Right, thanks, I'm on my way" He called over his shoulder, stuffing the thing back in its bag. McCullum tucked it under his arm.

_'I'm sure those leeches won't miss this'_


	5. NOT A CHAPTER  (SORRY)

I'm sorry those who are waiting very patiently for an update to the story,but i have a favour to ask. When i started writing this i had no clue what I was doing or where the story was going, but as it went on a better story came into shape (in my opinion). It would focus more on Camellia and the wytch side of things (Jonathan would still be in it don't worry) and be a lot more in depth than what is here so far. The only problem is that if i write and then post that it would probably cause alot of confusion with this, so i would have to delete it. This is why I'm asking for your help. Should i keep going with this? Or something else? 

Thank you for your time. Any questions in the comments if you have them and please let me know what you think, if you would like.

And sorry again. 

 


	6. Bring Me To Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can you see into my eyes like open doors?  
> Leading you down, into my core  
> Where I've become so numb, without a soul  
> My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold  
> Until you find it there, and lead it, back, home
> 
> Wake me up inside  
> Wake me up inside  
> Call my name and save me from the dark  
> Bid my blood to run  
> Before I come undone  
> Save me from the nothing I've become  
> Now that I know what I'm without
> 
> You can't just leave me  
> Breathe into me and make me real  
> Bring me to life  
> -Bring Me To Life by Evanescence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say sorry enough for how long this took :'( I've been away from home recently and had laptop problems, so i wrote most of this on my phone. Also posting it early accidently didn't help.  
> And it's shorter than I'd like but updates should be back to every week soon  
> Let me know what you think.  
> ***WARNINGS***  
> Undetailed description of a body.

Once back at the dispensary, Nurse Crane demanded that Jonathan give Camellia a proper check-up. Despite the pair’s hesitation, he agreed. Saving himself from the Romanians wraith in the process. Upstairs away from prying eyes, both doctor and patient removed their coats. Camellia sat herself down upon the makeshift examination table. Butterflies prickled her stomach at being alone with the doctor, given her resent discovery. Jonathan’s lips formed into a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry my friend, I just want to make sure you’re alright” He told her, placing a hand comfortingly on her slumped shoulder. His instincts screamed at the contact, causing him to mentally scold himself. She seemed to sense his discomfort. Clearing his head, he set to work. Camellia sat patiently as he checked her over for any visible wounds. Of which he only found a few minor scrapes and bruises. With an unexpectedly awkward ask for permission, he tentatively felt her ribs for damage. As the doctor’s graceful hands gently made their way down her ribcage, alarm gripped him at how painfully thin she was. Pausing in place, he peered up at her with a frown.

“My god. When was the last time you ate?!” He asked, worry leaking through into his voice. Camellia only gave him a lost look. She didn't even feel hungry. The Ekon sighed as he took out his stethoscope, placing it just above her heart. She held her breath. He could hear her pulse echoing loudly in his ears, like a nervous fluttering in the hollow of her chest. The sound made his fangs ache. Biting his tongue, Jonathan moved the instrument a little to the right, frowning as the sound changed. Something stirred in the inner chambers of her heart, hidden and quiet. It whispered to him. Images suddenly assaulted his mind in great flood of ancient dysphoria.

_The air is heavy with ash and smothering clouds of smoke. Great armies clash in the dead of night, battling in the very hight of winter. He, the king of England, locks swords with the king in deathly black._

_"Die murderer!" His opponent hisses, their bloodied faces inches apart. White and black met pale blue and red eyes as they stared each other down. He snarls, his fangs illuminating in the harsh light of the moon. His sword manages to get free, slicing the dark king across the chest. The man growls in pain. In retaliation, his adversary rises his fist, veins blackening beneath the skin. From his hand, an inky corruption lashes like talons out towards him..._

With a yell, the doctor stumbled backwards out of fear of being hit, only to find himself back in the dispensary. The sudden movement made his patient jump. Had he gone mad? Hallucinations maybe? How could it have felt so real? Camellia pulled him back to reality with a hand tapping on his arm, her face contorted in fear. Jonathan rubbed his eyes in an attempt to get them to focus.

“I-I'm sorry, I am very tired that’s all" he began, giving her a shaky smile.

"Anyway, I would like to take a blood sample just in case. If that’s alright?"  
Camellia grimaced at the thought. Reaching into his pocket, the doctor produced an empty syringe, as if to show her that it was nothing to be afraid of. She didn’t seem convinced.

"It’s just to make sure all is well. I promise it won't hurt a lot" Jonathan assured softly. The girl thought it over for a minute, before reluctantly nodding her head. With a sigh, she unbuttoned her sleeve. It would seem her trust in the man yet lingered. Making sure her wytch mark wasn't visible, she offered the vampire her wrist. As gently as he could, Dr Reid filled the syringe with her dark blood.

"Thank you my friend. I will analyse this and let you know what i find" He told her, placing a small bandage over the wound. At that moment, Nurse Crane wondered in to check how they were doing.

"How is she doctor?"

"A few scrapes and a bit underweight, but other than that she is fine. I took a blood sample to see if i can find out what caused this" The doctor replied, shrugging on his coat. A weight seem to lift from the Romanians shoulders at the somewhat alright diagnosis.

"Oh good, I'll make sure she eats something doctor"

"Please do. Anyway I best be going" he began, tuning to Camellia. "Good bye my friend, and get some rest. I will be back to check on you tomorrow"  
With a final nod farewell to Dorothy, Jonathan disappeared out the door. The nurse let out a deep sigh.

"Well then, lets get you something to eat" she said, beckoning for her to accompany her downstairs. The red head found herself rather unenthusiastic at the prospect of food, but nodded and followed anyway. Within a few minutes, a plate of simple bread and butter was handed to her. She stared down at it. For some reason the dish looked rather unappetising, despite her having eaten it numerous times before. Hesitantly, Camellia took a bite and swallowed. As soon as the bread entered her stomach, it threatened to force it’s way up again. The nurse stared at her worriedly, pausing her meal.

"Camellia are you alright?"  
The wytch began to gag violently, dashing upstairs to the makeshift bathroom. Slamming the door behind her. Finally she couldn’t keep it down any longer, and began expelling the offending substance out into the toilet. Trembling, she slid down against the sink. The exhausted girl squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for her gut to settle. Morgaine's words from hours before began to echo in her head.

_"You, my champion, are a Necromancer. The very essence of death courses through your veins, and I know you can feel that something is happening. Only the dead can say what”_

_‘I don’t understand!’_

_“You will in time, but for now, read the book of forbidden knowledge. Written by your predecessor, it will point the way to your victory”_

Her path to victory? A joyless laugh bubbled in her throat. How could such a concept apply to her? Camellia’s mind began to wonder. Pulling the book out of her pocket, she studied its age worn cover. Strange words were carved into the dark leather surface, etched by a flowing hand. The wytch recognised the language to be Enochian. The tongue of magic. Her fingers gripped the edges, but it refused to open. With a huff she tried again. It didn’t budge.

_‘What the hell?’_

Camellia looked it over once more, but found nothing obvious. Suddenly an idea came to her. Taking a deep breath, she focused her essence. Her power awoke. Beneath the skin, rivers of ebony snaked down her arms to her fingertips, tuning them smoky black. The book seemed to shudder under her touch. Willing it to open, the book finally yielded. Camellia felt herself let out a triumphant huff, and began to flick though. Page after page were sprawled with strange diagrams and handwritten notes. Everything was written in Enochian, but the words turned to English under her sturdy gaze. Finally, progress! One section particularly caught her eye:

**Our kind the Attor, known to mortals as Necromancers, have always been the guardian of death. The power to bring a soul back across the veil is innate to our very being and the purpose of our creation. Arawn, father of Wytches, granted us the blessed corruption of which we breathe to command the dead to rise again. Above the lesser breeds of wytches of Hyrde, Fyr-Hyse and Wyrt, Attor have proven to be the strongest. Especially when fed on the souls of the wicked and the hearts of the damned...**

Camellia frowned in thought. Raising the dead and disturbing their rest seemed cruel to her. Not to mention dangerous. But maybe this is what she was meant to do? The young wytch had felt that something was off, as Morgaine had mentioned. Was this the way to find out what?

* * *

The thin divide between this world and the next seemed to fray in burial grounds. She could feel it. Camellia had snuck out of the dispensary and was now wandering hopelessly in the dark through Stonebridge cemetery. Snow once more flittered down from above, sticking to her hair and eyelashes. The wytch pulled her coat tighter as she went from tomb to tomb looking for…something. She read the names as she passed, almost all of them lost to the war or flu. As she neared the centre, an otherworldly pull alerted her to something nearby, hidden beneath the murk. Camellia came to a stop at the foot of a grave, maybe a few months old, and squatted down to investigate. Her magic flared. Whoever was buried here could finally give answers to her questions. She dropped to her knees, and began digging down with hands and nails. Excavation was slow and painful, but eventually she hit something hard and wooden sounding. Beneath the cold dirt, a coffin came into view. Camellia paused.

_‘Please forgive me’_

Gripping the lid, she pulled it open. It was worryingly easy. Bracing herself against the smell, the wytch peered down. The corpse of a well off woman lay inside. Surprisingly well intact, if not a little dried up and bony, for the time she had been in the ground. Taking a deep breath, Camellia called upon her dark power. As the colour drained from her body, like it had when she first awoke on the riverbank, the wytch reached out to the other side. The world seemed to fall in on itself as she stared into the blur, watching as spirts re-enacted times long since passed. Her gaze fell on a solitary figure, standing far out in the mist and away from the others. Carefully, the redhead stood beside them. She could see now that it was a woman, dressed in black.

“Hello?” The sound of her own voice startled her. Of course, here you didn’t need a body to speak. Silently, the woman turned to glance at her.

“You shouldn’t be here” she whispered sadly. Her body flickered like a black smoky flame disturbed by an unknown breeze.

“Why?” The girl inquired. The woman looked away, seemingly afraid.

“The king will hear us, and then he’ll kill you. He can’t do that to me, I’m already dead”

“But if I brought you back, you could tell me?”

The spirit’s brow furrowed in confusion, turning to face her fully.

“How? How do I leave this place?”

“I will show you, but you must promise to tell me all you know” Camellia told her. The woman’s eyes betrayed hope.

“I-I promise”

“Then take my hand” She replied softly. The spirit eyed her hand before gently doing as asked. The effect was instant. Camellia’s head spun as she was snapped back into her body with the force of a freight train. The silence was suddenly broke by the sound of raspy breathing, emanating from below. The wytch smiled down.

_‘Welcome back’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last thought, if anyone is interested, what would Jon and Cami's ship name be?


	7. The Letter and The Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a filler chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one sorry, been struggling to get inspiration. And its to see if shorting the size will get them out faster.  
> Also i wrote this at 3 in the morning so it might not be the best thing I've written  
> ***WARNING***  
> Gore and blood.

**Doctor Reid**

**I must have your presents as soon as possible to discuss a matter of great importance to the Empire. As chairman, I will grant you-**

Jonathan did not bother with reading the rest. Discarding the letter with a sizeable amount of bitterness, he returned to his studies. A feminine sigh sounded behind him.

"Jonathan..."

The Ekon did not respond, too engrossed in the dark sample of blood currently beneath his microscope. Taken from the creature that attacked him in Whitechapel. It's properties were...odd to say the least. Unlike anything he had ever seen. The blood was unmistakeably human, but with enormous amounts of mutation. Far removed from that of immortals. Out of curiosity, he reached for the vial that held Camellia’s.

"Jonathan!"

"I'm sorry Elizabeth, but I have had enough with Redgrave and his bloody club"

The woman’s eyes softened with understanding. 

"I know, but for Ascalon to reach out to you now must mean it's something serious" She told him, coming to stand beside the desk. A sigh escaped through his nose. Setting aside his equipment, Jonathan turned to face the good lady. Her usually serene face betrayed unease.

"After all that happened usually I would caution against it, but something is happening my friend, and I don't have the knowledge to determine what"

"I highly doubt that my lady" He admitted, running a hand through his dark hair. Elizabeth smiled at his statement. After a moment of silence the doctor shook his head in defeat.

"Alright, I'll see what lord Redgrave has to say" 

"Thank you Jonathan" She said, clasping her hands together. Giving him a final farewell, Elizabeth slipped quietly out of the room. He leaned back in his leather armchair with a tired huff, staring up at the ceiling. Nearby, the clock chimed 4 in the morning and signalled the end of another long night. Getting to his feet, Jonathan locked the door to his father’s old office, of which he had converted into a consultants office and lab. Much to his mother's approval. Along the corridor, his eyes landed on the dried up remains of flowers placed at his sisters door. Jonathan made a mental note to buy fresh ones as soon as able. As he entered his bedroom, he could hear his mother in the room across from his, talking to her 'family' in a joyful tone. The thought left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. As his fingers began to unbutton his shirt, his mind wondered to his session with Camellia.

He found himself stung by worry for the girl. More so than his other patients. Jonathan was not one prone to favouritism, so the revaluation somewhat surprised him. Then again, she was a dear friend. 

 _'Doctor’s must treat all patients equally Jonathan, even you'_ He scolded himself, slipping on a night shirt. The sun was soon to rise as he fell into bed, staying awake just long enough to listen to the birds welcoming the dawn.

* * *

 "Ah you’re awake!" A voice purred. McCullum struggled to pry open his eyes, the pounding in his head worsening with every minute. A hand gripped his jaw. With blurry vison, he could make out the figure of an old woman draped in black. Her head tipped to the side. Peering out beneath a hood, her milky eyes seemingly studied every inch of his face.

"Where am I?!" He croaked, struggling to pull away. The woman’s mouth twisted into a feral grin.

"This is my lair, dear hunter" She replied dramatically, gesturing to the space around them. McCullum scowled in confusion. He had been in Southwark, sending artifacts off to the Priwen headquarters, so how did he-?

Suddenly it hit him. He had been abducted. His suspicion was confirmed when he realised that he was kneeling on the ground with his hands tied securely behind his back. McCullum fought against the restraints.

"Now dearie! You can't leave just yet, I have a job for you!" She began, releasing her grip and sauntering over to what seemed to be an enormous old bath tub. She perched herself upon the edge. Reacting down, she calmly stirred the contents, a smile on her withered face. The Priwen leader scanned the room for a way to escape, his eyes landing on a nightmare instead. Cast aside at the bath's clawed bronze feet lay the pallid corpses of three of his men, each of their throats brutally slit. White hot rage shot through him, restrained only by his shackles. The woman cackled at his vain attempt at freedom, slipping the hood off of her head. McCullum recoiled at the sight of her cracked and oozing grey skin. It was as if she was made of old ash.

"I was beginning to wonder when you'd notice. Don't worry, they won't go to waste" She hummed, raising her hand out of the tub. For a moment, she idly followed the stream of blood that ran lazily through her fingers.

"Another leech" Growled McCullum, his voice dripping with venom. Fury flashed across the hag's features, before she leveled him with an icey stare.

"Ha! You are more ignorant than I thought. No matter..."

She stalked her way towards him. Once again her hand gripped his jaw, her nails threatening to puncture skin. 

"I have a task for you hunter, one of the upmost importance"

"Fuck.off"

"You need to find a girl for me" She continued, completely ignoring his statement. McCullum was becoming agitated.

"I kill people, not go searching for lost girls"

"Funny that killing her is what i want you to do"

"I don't kill humans"

"Oh trust me she is far from it" hissed the hag. Defiance bubbled in his chest.

"I'm not doing anything for you! Crazy hag!"

"What a pity" She began, her veins glowing beneath the skin. McCullum struggled as she drew in blood a circle on his forehead, muttering heresy under her breath.

"And I'm not crazy, I'm a Wytch"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm also curious to see what you guys want in future chapters. Or anything else story wise for that matter.


	8. Unmarked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please, don’t let this feeling  
> Destroy my mind  
> Don’t let this hunger  
> Eat me away  
> Please, don’t let this power  
> Be a snake in my hand
> 
> Please, unmark me  
> Like a newborn baby
> 
> Don’t let me drown  
> For the witch that I am  
> Don’t let me burn  
> For the witch that I am  
> -Unmarked by Shireen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was again wrote in a rush so where might be a few mistakes. Also been busy working on my portfolio for college and the first few pages of my first ever comic(the alternative version to this story) I hope its ok.
> 
> So much for quicker updates :'(

Her fingers splayed across the windowpane, dirt still embedded in her fingernails. Outside, the day was winding down to an end, streaks of orange and red lighting up the sky. She watched in wonder as if seeing it for the first time. The sound of a door opening directed her gaze from the view to the red haired girl now standing in front of her.

"I had forgotten how beautiful the sunset can be" She began softly. "And by the way, my name is Mary"

_...Such a cruel fate for someone so instilled with compassion. A mind once shattered, healed by death and the force of your unbridled will..._

The woman sat down on the edge of the nearby bed.

"So you need answers?"

Camellia nodded. Mary let out a shuddering breath. 

"Well, you did keep your promise. I'll tell you all I know" She started. "Where you found me, in the other world, there is a presents that...commands the souls around it, bending them to his will. The others referred to him as Mordred"

The wytches brow furrowed.

_'Mordred? From Arthurian legend? Lord above!'_

"I never saw him, but I could _feel_ him. I-I don't know how to explain it...It was like you could sense his fury"

Mary gazed down at her crumpled dress, still trying to wrap her head around all that had happened.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just so tired"

Camellia's face softened with understanding and placed a comforting hand on the older woman's shoulder. With a small smile, she left Mary to rest. As she stepped out the door she was confronted by a worried looking Romanian.

"Is she alright?" Dorothy quizzed. The wytch nodded her head, her eye drawn to the clock on the wall beside her. Before the nurse could say anything else she was out the door, setting out towards her job.

* * *

 With every step his unease grew. Jonathan was not the sort to seek out these kind of establishments. Never had been. In his youth, his other friends would drag him along, no matter how much he protested.

 _'Come on Johnny! don't be such a prude!'_  They'd tell him, all the while off their face with booze. Jonathan knew for a fact that if he ever did that, his mother **would** murder him. Rounding the corner, he arrived at his destination; The Ruby Skull Society. At the door, a man he was sure was half Vulkod stood glaring at him as he approached. The surgeon was halted by the brutes raised hand.

"Invitation?"

"Oh-Um, yes, here" The Ekon replied, rummaging around in his coat. Handing it over, the bouncers eyes passed over it before moving aside.

"Have a nice evening, sir" He grunted dismissively. Jonathan mumbled his thanks before making his way inside. Almost as soon as he crossed the threshold, he was ambushed by a woman with more makeup than face.

"Good evening sir! Welcome to my humble club, may I take your coat?"

"It's quite alright-"

"Oh please, I insist!" She told him, practically stripping him of his coat. The Ekon’s brow furrowed in disapproval, not that the woman seemed to care.

"This way please, Lord Redgrave is expecting you sir"

Jonathan opened his mouth to question, but quickly decided against it. The sound of lively music echoed around him, accompanied by bouts of laughter and applause. Pulling aside the great scarlet curtain, the woman directed him to a solitary table away from the other guests. Lord Redgrave rose to greet him.

"Ah, and here he is, the saviour of London!" He exclaimed, causing the rest of the table to chuckle.

"I did not come here for you to mock me, _my lord_ " Jonathan spat venomously. He had little patience for his one time 'superior'. Redgrave waved away his statement with an amused twist to his mouth.

"Come now, it was but a jest. Please sit, we have much to discuss"

Reluctantly, the doctor did as asked. Sitting beside him, Jonathan recognised one or two members of the Ascalon club, though the rest where strangers. They all eyed him with a dangerous mix of jealousy, suspicion and intrigue. He decided to ignore them. 

"Thank you for coming so quickly. I fear that of recent, the very Empire is once again in jeopardy"

"When is it not" He retorted. The chairman's eyes narrowed, but he continued on.

"Quite. Tell me, Dr Reid, what do you know of witches?"

Jonathan stared at the older vampire for a few moments to see if he was joking.

"My lord are you serious?"

"Deadly" Redgrave said in a harsh tone, his eyes hollow of mirth. It was then the doctor realised that the rest of the table had became deathly silent. They all held the look of thinly veiled fear. Jonathan shifted in his seat.

"I can't say I'm particularly knowledgeable on that area of expertise..." He replied. The chairman nodded in thought.

"You are new to this world, so your ignorance is understandable"

"How are they even a threat to you?"

"To us, Jonathan, they are a tremendous threat to us immortals. Always have been"

"What makes them so dangerous?"

Redgrave glanced around the table.

"Their blood is powerful. Some even more potent than ours, but unlike us they cannot walk amongst the mortals unnoticed. Whatever magic they wield shows on their skin"

"Like fire?"

"Yes, have you seen one?" He asked with a frown. Jonathan leaned back in his chair.

"I think I might have...I was attacked by a woman with burnt like skin and her veins...glowed like lava"

"Then it is worse than I thought. But I have to ask, did you taste of her blood?

"I did. It was like nothing else" He recalled. Jonathan found his hands shaking from the mere thought of it. Redgrave nodded in conformation.

"Then you have survived a pyromancer. Quite the feat. I think this calls for a reward" He began, signalling to someone across the room. Within a second, the woman from before appeared at his side.

"Yes my lord?"

"Ah Eileen, why don't you fetch us something to drink" He ordered. The woman gave him a knowing look.

"Of course, I'll send someone over" She replied, darting away to do his bidding. Alarm gripped Jonathan’s spine, and grew rapidly as he saw who was coming over. They locked eyes. Camellia seemed surprised to see him, casting him sideway glances while she set out their glasses. Around the table, the others watched her far to closely for the doctor's liking. Suddenly one of them grabbed her wrist, making the girl yelp.

"Well aren't you a pretty flower" He purred, planting a kiss on her knuckles. The redhead squirmed uncomfortably, trying to get free. She shot the doctor a pleading look. Jonathan's face hardened into a dark scowl.

"Leave her be"

"Ha! He must fancy you my dear!" The other Ekon jeered as he pulled up her sleeve, teeth inches from her skin. The next thing Camellia felt was a strong pair of arms pulling her from the vampire's clutches. Jonathan stood in front of her defensively, her chest pressed against his back. 

"I said-" He growled, baring his fangs hellishly"-To leave her alone"

Fear washed over the other man's features, somehow even paler than he was before.

"A-Apologies, sir"

Before anyone could say anymore, Eileen returned with a dark coloured bottle. She eyes darted between them, sensing the brewing tension.

"Here you are my lords, come along now dear" She declared, hurriedly taking Camellia by the arm. As she was dragged away, the girl glanced back at Jonathan, gratitude shining in her eyes. He smiled back at her reassuringly. Lord Redgrave, seemingly unfazed by the drama, uncorked the bottle and poured himself a glass, passing the rest around the table. The air became filled with the intoxicating scent of fresh blood.

"If your quite finished, I would like to offer you a deal Dr Reid" He interjected, taking a sip from his cup. Jonathan returned slowly to his seat. Out of curtsey, he found that one of the others had filled his glass. Not that he was in the mood for drinking. The chairman cleared his throat.

"The reason I have summoned you here is to ask for your aid, Doctor"

"How could I help you if i don't know anything about it?"

"You saved London. What better man to rescue the city once more?"

"I was not alone"

"Indeed. And you won't be for this either. But we need you young Ekon" The lord stressed, setting down his drink. Jonathan sighed tiredly.

"What of this deal you mentioned?"

"You help us get to the bottom of this, and I promise on my makers blood that the Ascalon club will never interfere with you or your work ever again"

The Doctor worked his jaw. Was London really in trouble once again? And life without the club always breathing down his neck would make everything considerably easier.

"So, Dr Reid, will you join us?"

"....Yes, I will. But don't make me regret this"

"Good, good. A toast then, to the preservation of England " He announced raising his glass, prompting the rest of the table to do the same.

"To England!" They chimed in unison. Jonathan remained silent. This was going to be interesting, he could feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another question, (which if you are getting fed up with just tell me to shut up) but what other ships do you guys want to see in this fic? Gay, straight, poly whatever.
> 
> I'm just curious:)


	9. My Truth of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through dark and light I fight to be  
> So close  
> Shadows and lies mask you from me  
> So close  
> Bathe my skin, the darkness within  
> So close  
> The war of our lives no one can win
> 
> The missing piece I yearn to find  
> So close  
> Please clear the anguish from my mind  
> So close  
> But when my truth of you comes clear  
> So close  
> I wish my life, I never come near  
> So close  
> -So Close by Olafur Arnalds (ft. Arnor Dan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another filler chapter sorry. Also sorry if its disappointing, I didn't have much time to edit:(

"I am sorry to disturb you at such a late hour..."

"Come now Jonathan, we both know that's not a problem. Whats wrong my friend?" Elizabeth queried with a worried frown. The doctor sat himself down on one of the available armchairs near to the fireplace, the lady doing the same. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"I met with lord Redgrave"

"And?"

"He is convinced that England is under threat from...witches" He confessed. The woman’s eyes shone with confusion.

"Witches? Are you sure?"

"Positively. Everyone there looked so afraid of this prospect"

"So their was lots of them there?"

"Yes, many of whom I didn't recognise"

Elizabeth pursed her lips in thought.

"I have to say Jonathan, this isn't what I expected"

"Me neither, but why is it such a big deal? Are witches really that dangerous?"

"From what I've heard, yes. But I'll be honest, I had thought for some time that they there extinct" She replied. The doctor leaned forward.

"How so? What happened to them?"

"We happened. Our kind hunted them for their blood for centuries, until the last of the original bloodlines died out" She began. "And from what little sources there are seem to suggest we were natural enemies"

Jonathan mulled over this information in his head.

"So what would it mean if they came back?"

"I have no idea"

"Well I guess it's my job to find out" He sighed, getting to his feet.

"Thank you for your time Elizabeth"

"Of course Jonathan, any time"

It was a short walk to the Reid family home, with little hindering from the guard. Walking through the door, he wished Avery a goodnight. As he made his way upstairs, Jonathan could hear coughing echoing from his mother's room, having become ill of late. She smiled as he entered.

"Johnny! Your home!" She chirped tiredly, taking her son's hand.

"How are you feeling today mother?"

"Oh don't worry about me, dear, I'll be fine-" She began, interrupted by another bout of coughing. The Ekon sat himself down on the side of the bed. Concern written across his features. Emelyne let out a light chuckle.

"You look just like your father when you do that"

Jonathan smiled sadly.

"Try to get some rest, mum" He whispered as he turned off the lights, leaving her to sleep in peace. His office was the final stop. Piles of unfinished research welcomed him as he came in. The Ekon groaned at the sight.

' _Another long night it seems'_ He thought to himself, flicking through his patient's folders until he found the right one. Jonathan dropped it on his desk, Camellia’s name written across the front. Her blood sample in his hand. He slid a drop under the microscope, and peered into the red abyss. The doctor's brow furrowed. There was something wrong here. Where he'd expect to find normal human cells, instead were  _heavily_ corrupted. It looked so familiar.

_'Could it be...? No'_

He reached for another vail. The one that held his attacker's blood. Jonathan compered the samples side by side, beneath the lens. What ever infested in this one was also present in Camellia’s. Except hers was far stronger. The Ekon froze as realisation crawled up his spine.

_'My god, Camellia...She's a witch...'_

* * *

The girl wondered through the grounds of St Mary's Church, thinking of better times. Soft flakes of snow start to drift from the sky, covering the gravestones around her. She paused to clear a space for her to sit on a nearby bench. Camellia had started taking this late night walks more often, the open space and quietness helped to clear her head. A minute passed peacefully, until she heard footsteps approaching. Dr Reid came into view, eyes distant and expression lost in thought. Obviously on his way to the dispensary. Suddenly he stopped, his gaze rising to meet hers.

"Camellia..." He said, practically a whisper. He slowly walked towards her. Thats when she sensed that something was wrong. He couldn't know could he? Yes he had her blood but he had nothing to compare it to. 

_'I hope'_

Jonathan seemed lost for words, until he finally opened his mouth.

"I have looked at your blood, and something is...wrong" He managed to say."It doesn't seem natural"

Camellia's heart began to pound.

"I compared it to someone else, and they had the same"

The girl jumped to her feet.

"And that person...was a witch"

She backed away from him, eyes wide with terror. The Ekon raised his hands in a sign of peace and began inching his way towards her.

"It’s alright, I want to help you"

It’s then he realised that she wasn't just afraid, she was afraid of _him._

_'Lord, she knows'_

"Camellia listen, I will never hurt you-" He began, desperate to make her understand. The wytch found herself backed into a wall, her eyes not leaving the vampire. She made to make a run for it, but Jonathan was suddenly there right in front of her, blocking her escape. Camellia shut her eyes, waiting for his fangs in her throat. But nothing happened. A hand gently touched her shoulder.

"Camellia...please..." He pleaded. Finally she peered up at him, their faces mere inches apart. His eyes shone with genuine and comforting fear. Human fear. Jonathan could feel her short puffs of breath and hear the rapid beating of her heart standing so close. No doubt his own doing the same. 

"You will never need to fear me..."


	10. The Devil Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will keep quiet  
> You won't even know I'm here  
> You won't suspect a thing  
> You won't see me in the mirror  
> But I crept into your heart  
> You can't make me disappear  
> Til I make you
> 
> I made myself at home  
> In the cobwebs and the lies  
> I'm learning all your tricks  
> I can hurt you from inside  
> I made myself a promise  
> You would never see me cry  
> -The Devil Within by Digital Daggers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this took forever. Been ill recently so my writing capabilities became non existent :(  
> Sorry for the wait.

Pale eyes watched the figure leave the building. She stood on the roof across the square, hidden behind a chimney stack. Mary's heart ached at the sight of her broken brother, wanting nothing more than to forgive him. But she couldn't muster the courage to reveal herself. Not yet. Whomever's house he had just left was grand, maybe even more so than the Reid family home.

 _'Home. My poor mother'_ She thought to herself, watching Jonathan until he disappeared from view. Mary was about to follow after him when the door opened once more. A woman stepped out, dressed in a simple but elegant black dress. Something about her integrated the young Ekon.

She couldn't describe it.

Mary spyed the female slipping off into the nearest alley, promoting her to follow. The stranger arrived at the main street and stopped to converse with a young suffragette. The pair seemed to know each other well, exchanging hugs and warm smiles. She couldn't hear what they where saying. But they soon went their separate ways, Mary following the woman once more. 

She turned down into a courtyard, becoming lost from view. The young Ekon searched for her but found no sign her quarry. Against her better judgement, she descended to the ground. It would seem the woman had vanished. 

"Despite your quick footing, your very easy to spot my dear" A voice declared behind her. Mary jumped out of her skin, before turning to face the source. The mysterious lady stood with her arms folded, looking at her expectantly.

"I-What?" She spluttered, unprepared for being caught. 

"I knew that you where following me not two steps out the door. Who are you?"

Mary remained silent for a moment.

 _'If she knows Jonathan, then it's likely she's heard of what happened to me'_ She pondered, before giving her answer.

"My name is...Emelyne"

"Well then Miss, what do you want from me?"

* * *

  **Two months later**

"McCullum is missing?!?" He exclaimed. The man in front of him nodded solemnly.

"Aye, for two and a half months now" 

"Why have you only come to me now!?"

"The others in the guard are against asking a  _leech_ for help"

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep huff.

"And you're not, Captain Lee?" 

The man in question shifted uncomfortably.

"Not when its our only choice" He began sourly. "Listen, not long after Geoffrey disappeared, some strange foreigners showed up and practically took over the guard. Being as stretched thin as we are, we had no real chance of stopping it"

 "What? Who are they?"

"Don't know, called themselves 'The Order of Raguel' or something pompous like that, said that they hunted 'Blackmagic' or such nonsense"

The Vampire made a mental note of this new information, fidgeting nervously with his pen.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do"

"Thanks Reid, just make sure that if anyone asks, it wasn't me who told you"

"Of course, Captain" Jonathan assured, opening the office door. The other man nodded approvingly before leaving the Ekon in peace. The doctor sighed tiredly as he returned to the task at hand. His eyes landed on the folder lying open on the workbench, the report for Lord Redgrave tucked inside.

He had managed to find out quite a lot regarding witches, mostly with Camellia’s help, and managing to keep all trace of her from coming to Ascalon's attention. She had made a habit of visiting him at the hospital and sharing what she knew using a rudimental form of sign language they had been working on together.

That was until... distasteful rumours started spreading amongst the staff and patients. Much to his discomfort. To an extent, Jonathan wasn't surprised, but it was no less awkward to say the least. As an alternative, the pair began meeting up at the Turquoise Turtle once or twice a week. And of recently it had become something of a social gathering as well. A welcome break from the high stress from working in the hospital.

The only thing that Jonathan was unhappy about with the arrangement was Camellia continuing to work at the Ruby Skull, despite the warnings he had given her. The girl had only waved away his concern with a brave and determined smile. He had to admire her courage. Tonight was one of the many times he had been summoned to Redgrave's favourite establishment, not that Jonathan actually showed up most of the time. This, however, was different. Shrugging on his coat, he tucked the report securely in the inner pocket before setting out into the night.

* * *

Camellia carefully followed the instructions step by step, managing to stop herself from stumbling much more easily than before.

"Well done, my dear. You are doing very good" Sofia assured from her perch on the velveteen couch. The young wytch blushed at the praise .The pair had taken the time to practice in one of the clubs many dressing rooms. Within a week or so of starting her new job, the older woman had offered to tutor her in dancing. Camellia liked to think she'd improved since then. Sofia absent-mindedly massaged the swollen bulge that was her ankle, having badly hurt it in last night's performance. The red head had done what she could to ease the pain, but it was beyond her capabilities.

At that moment, Lewis waltzed in the door, not bothered if he interrupted.

"How are you doing my dear? We need you on stage within the hour" He announced, eyeing the woman’s leg. The dancer shook her head solemnly.

"I can't. Not tonight, I'm sorry"

Lewis's face soured with disapproval, but asked no more about it.

"Ah, alright, I guess one of the other girls will have to take your place then-" He began, about to open the door, only for Sofia to cut him off.

"Camellia could do it"

Startled, the girl glanced to the blonde with wide eyes. The club manager failed to conceal his own shock. 

"Don’t be silly, she has no idea what she's doing" He retorted. The woman rolled her eyes.

"We've been practicing, and she knows all the steps"

The man pressed his lips into a hard line, before turning to face Camellia directly.

"Well then...Do show"

Sofia nodded at her reassuringly. The girl took a deep breath to calm her shaking nerves. One of the count of three, she reluctantly repeated the routine from before. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself on stage. When she opened them again, she had expected the man to be frowning in disinterest, but instead he held the look of quiet surprise. Lewis glanced between them before opening the door for her.

"Very well, it will do just for tonight. Come, you need a more suitable outfit" He agreed, ushering her out of the room. Camellia looked back at Sofia who simply smiled in return. Just down the hall they came to the costume room, and where ambushed by a rather distressed outfitter.

"Where is dear Sofia!" The man exclaimed, flailing his arms dramatically. Lewis rolled his eyes before shoving Camellia forward.

"She sitting out tonight, Camellia here is her replacement"

The outfitter eyed her harshly, but nodded none the less. With that the manager left them to it. Butterflies prickled her stomach.

"Let's see here" He began. "Hm, pretty but not perfect, but that's easily fixed". The girl squirmed slightly as he inspected her from top to bottom. Thinking for a moment, he turned around to the clothes rack . He pulled out a rather beautiful looking red velvet corset and crimson ruffled skirt lined with black lace. The outfit was pushed into her arms as he directed her to a nearby separateing screen. Gingerly she pulled on the attire, feeling rather bear. Showing more skin than she was used to.

Stepping out, the outfitter looked her over before fiddling with the corset.

"No my dear it must be tighter!" He demanded, giving the lacing a harsh tug. Camellia gasped as the air was squeezed from her lungs.

"There, much better. Now just this"

Within a moment her eyes had been lined with kohl and lips stained with rouge. The girl caught her reflection in a nearby mirror and almost didn't recognise herself. She didn't have time to take it all in as she was guided back stage to where the other girls waited. Some of them glared, but otherwise said nothing. As they prepared, a voice addressed the audience.

"My lords and honoured patrons, welcome to The Ruby Skull Society. Our show for this evening has been brought to you by our very own Eileen Woods and the lovely Sofia. Please give a warm welcome to The Midnight Spectacular!"

The following applause was almost deafening, and continued as the curtain was pulled back. Camellia bit back her fear. The band launched into the music as the show began, the stage awash with colour and smoky light. She surprised herself at how easily she fell into step with everyone else.  Sofia had been a great teacher. The wytch scanned the audience for any sign of reaction, but found something else instead. Up on one of the balconies, a pair of familiar pale eyes looked down at her.

_'Jonathan...'_

The doctor’s face showed his disbelief at seeing her there, as well as something else the girl could not place. She smiled up at him. Jonathan returned the gesture until the eye contact was broken in the action on stage. The Ekon found himself enchanted by flicks of her blood red hair and twists of her crimson skirt. 

"A pretty one, I see why you like her" The voice of lord Redgrave startled him out of his trance.

"She is a friend, nothing more. I assure you" He replied, turning away from the stage. The older vampire chuckled quietly.

"It is not I who needs assured. Come, sit with me"

The men made their way over to an empty table and sat down, Redgrave seemingly eager to hear any news. Jonathan handed over his report, waiting patiently for the other Ekon to finish. As he read, Redgrave's brow furrowed.

"Witches in Southwark, unrest among the population and an Arthurian legend back from the dead? You have done well doctor. Where did you learn all this?"

Jonathan worked his jaw.

"You have your sources, I have mine" He replied calmly. Redgrave asked no farther. 

"Very well, I look forward to seeing what else you find" Said the other Ekon, watching Jonathan as he stood from the table.

"As am I, Lord Redgrave"

With a final nod farewell, the doctor continued his search.

* * *

  _'Mustfindthegirlmustfindthegirlmust-'_ The words burned in his mind. He banged his head against the wall to try and make it stop, but didn't help. When was the last time he slept? He couldn't remember.

_'No! No sleep! Only hunt!'_

He stopped to stare intensely at the bright red doors in front of him.

_'Find the girl! Find the Wytch!'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S  
> I was talking to someone I know and they asked me what I thought of a Jonathan/Camellia/McCullum dynamic. I thought it sounded interesting and I want to know what my readers think too, if your inclined to comment.


	11. The Devil Within (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll never know what hit you  
> Won't see me closing in  
> I'm gonna make you suffer  
> This hell you put me in  
> I'm underneath your skin  
> The devil within  
> You'll never know what hit you
> 
> I will be here  
> When you think you're all alone  
> Seeping through the cracks  
> I'm the poison in your bones  
> My love is your disease  
> I won't let it set you free  
> Til I break you  
> -The Devil Within by The Digital Daggers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the ending sounds rushed, wanted to post it as soon as possible.

Out of breath and heart pounding, Camellia sauntered back stage during half-time. She needed a break. At the back of the dressing rooms she unceremoniously flopped down onto a nearby couch, not caring how bedraggled she looked. She sat there for a moment just breathing deeply. A noise interrupted her thinking, but she thought nothing of it. It came again, but this time much louder. It sounded like...broken glass?

Camellia slowly got to her feet, brow furrowed. It was coming from a nearby storeroom. The Wytch pressed her ear to the door, listening for any movement.

Silence. 

Gingerly she pushed the door open, revealing the dark expanse beyond. Tiptoeing as quietly as she could, Camellia searched for the source of the disturbance. It took the form of a shattered window. Her gut told her that something was very wrong, and she turned to hurry out of the room. Until something caught her eye. In the corner, shrouded in shadow, a figure squatted with their back to her. They appeared to be franticly mumbling to themselves and clutching their head, as if in great pain. All of a sudden, the stranger snapped around to stare intensely at her with blood shot eyes. Slowly, he got to his feet. Camellia could feel the dark aura that ebbed from him as he dashed towards her, mumbling still.

"Foundyoufoundyoufoundyou!"

* * *

The girl thanked Jonathan for his kindness, pocketing the medicine he had given her. He smiled and bid her good night. The doctor had gotten distracted on his way to the exit, having come across some dancers in the need of healing. But now he definitely had to leave. It was half-time, and some of the performers had taken to 'mingling' with the guests. Jonathan didn't want to get in the way. He had almost reached the door when a hand grabbed his coat.

"Sorry miss but I'm not- Camellia? What's wrong?" He began, noticing the look of distress written on her face. She tried to pull him away, but he stopped her. Lord Redgrave gazed down at them somewhat suspiciously, puzzled as to what was happening.

 _'We're drawing too much attention'_  He thought worriedly. Camellia seemed to sense this too. They looked at each other in the hopes of coming up with a way to blend in. The wytch suddenly remembered the abundance of dancers in the crowd and quickly formed a plan. Taking the vampire by the hand, she led him to a nearby booth. Jonathan seemed to catch on with what she was doing, and tried to act as natural as possible. The wytch glanced around at the other girls, copying what they did.

"Camellia I-" Whatever words he was about to say died on his tounge as the wytch sat herself in his lap. The blood rushed to his face, coming out in a deep blush. Swallowing her own embarrassment, Camellia gently pressed her lips to his cheek. As she did a voice, so soft and sweet, whispered in the back of the Vampire's mind.

_'Meet me back stage, I need your help, Jonathan. Don't let anyone see you'_

With that she released him, glancing up to see if they were still being watched. Thankfully their distraction worked, Redgrave now seemingly eager to leave them in peace. The girl took the opportunity to slip back stage. Jonathan waited a few moments before doing the same, gently tapping the changing room door. He was quickly pulled inside.

"What on earth happened here?!" He exclaimed, taking in the sight before him. The room was a mess. Furniture had been pushed over and broken glass littered the floor, while in the centre a mass of dark vines ensnared the still struggling form of a man.

"My god...McCullum?!"

The hunter seemed to disregard his own name, instead staring at them with feral intensity. Camellia kept her distance, nervously biting her nails. Jonathan went to get a better look at the man, but was swiped at as soon as he got too close.

"His eyes-Whats happened to him?"

The wytch hesitated but signed her response with her hands.

"Magic"

The Vampire pinched the bridge of his nose, how the hell did this happen?

"We need to get him out of here, though it will be difficult with him acting like this" Jonathan stressed. An idea popped into his head. He squatted down just out of arms reach, and willed the hunter to look at him.

**"McCullum. Stop. Go to sleep"**

Geoffrey stopped squirming but remained on high alert, eyeing the doctor closely. Taking a deep breath, Jonathan tried again.

**"Geoffrey, sleep now..."**

This time it seemed to work, the Irish man's eyes falling shut despite desperately fighting to keep them open. Camellia let out a sigh of relief. With a flick of her wrist the vines subsided, fading away until it looked like they were never there at all. McCullum's limp body was caught in the Ekon’s arms and hoisted up onto the doctor’s shoulders. One last problem. How to sneak the unconscious leader of the guard of Priwen out of a burlesque club filled with vampires?

* * *

The haze of deep sleep lifted as he opened his eyes. Walls of sterile white surrounded him, the brightness almost over bearing. He blinked in an attempt to see.

"Edgar, please, turn off the light"

Soothing darkness returned once more, allowing him to finally notice the brewing pain in his head. A groan escaped his throat.

"Reid? What-Ah! My head"

The doctor pushed what felt like a cup into his had and urged him to drink. Not having the strength to object, he did as asked. Jonathan watched for any other signs of illness as McCullum gingerly sipped on the water before gulping down the rest. The Irishman paused for a moment, taking in the vaguely familiar surroundings.

"How the fuck did I get here, where am I?!" He demanded as he sat up in bed. 

"You are currently a patient at the Pembroke Hospital"

"What!? Why!?"

"You where very unwell McCullum, I couldn't just leave you were you where" Jonathan replied, shuffling on his seat beside the bed. The Vampire's eyes seemed more tired than usual. Suddenly Geoffrey understood what had happened. His missing men, the coldness of his chains, the months of hollowing emptiness...the 'witch'. It all came flooding in. His hand flew to feel the clamy skin of his forehead, almost expecting the bloody circle to still be there. It was not.

"What happened to you, Geoffrey?" A second voice questioned, no doubt belonging to the coward Swansea. The hunter massaged his temple in an attempt to quell the growing headache.

"Some of the guard had gone missing in Southwark. I went to investigate, next thing I remember was being chained up in some crazy woman’s basement. She killed my men and...did something to me..." He trailed off. The two doctors eyed each other. After a moment of tense quiet, Jonathan broke the silence.

"From what I've been told, you were possessed. Using magic"

McCullum felt as though he would have laughed if it had not been for knowing how strange this world could be. The blood on his sword was proof of that.

"So...you break spells now doctor?"

"No, not me-" Jonathan began with a small smile, gesturing to someone behind him.

"This is Camellia"

A girl, no older than twenty, stepped into view beside the vampire. Geoffrey recognised her almost immediately. The Wytch he was ment to kill.


	12. Forces Beyond Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll return from darkness and will save your precious skin  
> I will end your suffering and let the healing light come in  
> Sent by forces beyond salvation  
> There can be not one sensation
> 
> World on fire with a smoking sun  
> Stops everything and everyone  
> Brace yourself for all will pay  
> Help is on the way  
> -World on Fire by Les Friction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I have a Tumblr of the same name should you wish to yell at me for taking so fucking long (again)  
> Inspiration was hard to come by and Assassin’s Creed took over my life.

"McCullum is dead"

The crowd assembled in front of him burst into uproar. Did they think him to be lying? No matter. Let them have their proof. The harsh clash of metal echoed around the hall as everyone fell silent, staring at the mangled sword dropped at their feet.

"My God i-is that Geoffrey's blade?!" Someone breathed, causing the group to gasp in shock.

"He never left without it..."

"What do we do now!?"

A sense of defeat swept around the room at the loss of their leader. 

"Who could have done this!?"

"Not who, but  _what_ " He corrected, beginning to slowly pace up and down the stage. All eyes looked up at him suspiciously.

"So a leech?"

"Ha! No. McCullum was murdered...by a wytch"

Everyone went silent. 

"Look at the damage, do you think a  _vampire_ could do that? But more importantly, what are we going to do about it" He continued. The crowd murmured among themselves until the stranger signalled for silence.

"Back home, in the states, witchcraft is all but extinct. Why? Because of me and The Sons of Raguel! Not long ago I caught wind that the fiends had suddenly been spotted around London-" He began. "We arrived to find the once glorious guard leaderless and scattered, but I promise you all, no one will suffer this plague much longer. My name is Gerrard Dorian, and I have come to kill witches"

* * *

The air shimmered with violet energy, flowing from within her hands. Standing in the middle of the Pembroke attic Camellia practiced her craft, making her oblivious to the vampire sneaking up behind her.

"Incredible...!"

With a start, she turned to find Jonathan gazing up at the churning lights. Her feelings of agitation melted upon seeing the look on his face. Hidden behind his beard, a smile of wonder grew, and his once sorrow filled eyes now lit up with almost child like curiosity. Realising that she was staring, Camellia tore her attention back to the magic. Trying to ignore the blush spreading across her cheeks. 

_'Goodness sake woman! Get a hold of yourself!'_

 "I'm going out on business, feel free to stay in my office and make yourself at home my friend" He told her, finally looking away from the air. The wytch nodded in understanding and gave him a final smile farewell as he made his way out. A particularly soggy night greeted Jonathan as he left the building.

His pace quickening with every step, he was practically soaked by the time he arrived at the door of Elizabeth Ashbury. The woman chuckled slightly at his bedraggled form, hurrying him inside.

"Goodness Jonathan! You must be freezing" She insisted, taking his coat.

"No more than usual" He returned with a sigh, pausing at the sound of movement coming from the living room.

"I didn't know you had company, Elizabeth?"

"Indeed, come, I would love for you to meet her" The female Ekon replied happily. He followed her farther into the house, but froze at the door way.

"The fire has only just been lit so-Jonathan? What's wrong?"

His gaze stared passed her, to the dark haired woman sitting in front of the fire place. Jonathan felt as if the rug was pulled out from under him.

"Mary?!" The words a horse whisper. His sibling, his twin, the sister he had murdered not once but twice alive and here before him. Shock forced him to drop to his knees as great ripples of panic blinded him. Hands rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort, but to no avail. Each breath was like being strangled, squashing the air from his lungs. Jonathan suddenly found himself engulfed in someone's arms, their sent reminding him of distant childhood memories.

"I forgive you brother, I forgive you" Mary whispered as she rested her head on top of his, not caring if the man’s red tears stained her dress. She finally allowed herself to cry.

"I love you, Johnny"

"I love you too, Mary"


	13. Be Still With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know where to find me  
> If you think it's all over  
> I can sense it a mile off  
> It's no friendly hello  
> You could be screaming drunk  
> Well I've got my bad days too  
> I'm gonna be here for you  
> Be still with me
> 
> In a public place, private thoughts  
> A reminder of a precious loss  
> You can be a source of constant reassurance  
> Let the breeze block sadness drop  
> -You know where to find me by Imogen Heap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back bitches!!  
> Thank you for 1000 hits! I didn't expect it to get this far. Considering this is as much your fic as it is mine, I would appreciate any thoughts concerning the future of this story or critique. I will not judge.
> 
> Thanks again :D

As the dreary night wore on, Camellia decided to check on the hunter. He appeared to be fast asleep. Tiptoeing silently across the room, she plucked the grimoire, which had been used in removing McCullum's possession, from the bedside table. Being this close awoke her wytch sense.

_...A stubborn man, with a wounded soul. The burden of his mentor's war weighs heavy on his shoulders..._

"So, you and the leech eh? Or do you just fancy him?"

Camellia startled slightly, before rolling her eyes at the hunter's assumption. He wasn't the first, or the last, to misinterpret her relationship with Jonathan. McCullum, now partly awake, shifted so he was now looking up at her. Seemingly amused at her embarrassment. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the girl decided that it was time to leave. She paused at the door as he called out once more.

"Lass...thank you"

Over her shoulder she gave the hunter a small, but genuine, smile before letting him get some much needed rest. The sent of disinfectant assaulted her nose as she entered the corridor, almost bumping into Dr Swansea along the way. The man seemed surprised to see her. Smiling Politely, she glimpsed at the odd stack of medical equipment tucked securely under his arm.

"Ah! Miss Camellia" He greeted warmly. " I was just looking for Jonathan, is he here?"

The wytch shook her head.

"Oh well then. Shame. Would you kindly tell him I was looking for him, if you see him?"

With that, the doctor sped off towards his office. Something about the newborn irked her, she just couldn't put her finger on it.

_...Caution, do not let his charm convey naivety. He has seen more than most..._

The wytch continued on, greeting those she passed with a nod as she made her way out of the hospital and back towards the Ruby Skull.

* * *

 Finally, things where looking up for Dr Reid. He walked with a new spring in his step, turning back to wave at Mary and Elizabeth, who were standing at the door of the Ashbury family home. The cold January night did little to dampen his good mood. Now all he had to do was make sure his mother shook off this dreadful sickness.

As he neared home, a strange and unfamiliar sent coming from a nearby alleyway gave him pause. Blood maybe? No, too earthy. Jonathan peered wearily around the deserted Street before deciding to investigate. With each step the smell became stronger, grinding his nerves with it’s potency. As he rounded the corner, the source came into view. Laying across the dark cobblestone pavement was the unconscious form of a woman. Jonathan rushed to her side.

“Madame! Can you hear me!?”

She did not stir, her face hidden behind a moth eaten old scarf. The Vampire quickly tossed it aside. To his great surprise the woman’s lime tinted skin bristled with deep roots and sharp thorns unlike anything he had ever seen. It didn’t take Jonathan long to realise that she must be some kind of wytch.

The revelation unwillingly brought back the addictive memory of his first taste of spell casters blood. With shaking hands, he checked her over for any wounds, finding the bruised puncture mark of a needle in the base of her neck. The Ekon could barely contain himself. For several gruelling days now, Jonathan had resisted the overwhelming urge to feed. The doctor part of him insisted.

But now, the thirst was too much to bare.

Fangs, long and wicked, embedded themselves deep into the witch’s arm, releasing a river of sweet red euphoria. A low beastly growl escaped his throat as the vampyr savoured every single drop. The world seemed to melt away.

Suddenly, Jonathan could feel eyes on his back, and turned to see a group of several men glaring at him as they made their way up the street.A few wore the usual Priwen garb, but the rest where kitted out in attire all the more militant. At the font of the pack strode a man with a smug grin plastered to his sun kissed face.

Something was not right.

“Enjoying yourself, Ekon?” The stranger called out calmly. Jonathan immediately shot to his feet, glaring at the group defensively.

“Leave me be, I have no quarrel with you” He warned, backing away from the body. That’s when he began to feel...off.  A wave of heavy numbness caught Jonathan unaware, making him stumble and steady himself against a nearby wall. The stranger seemed to be pleased.

“Ah, its working. Told you” He stated matter-of-factly, nudging the brute next to him. The doctor gritted his teeth as the world began to spin. So, this was a trap?

“What-what is this?!” He demanded, his legs finally giving out. The gang surrounded him, one or two grabbing Jonathan by the coat and shoving him onto the floor. He was powerless to stop them. Someone reached inside his pocket and stole his resent notes for Lord Redgrave.

“Got it boss. What now?”

“Head back to base, we'll take care of the leech” The leader ordered, making sure the witch was now dead. Clearing the blood from his knife, he turned back to Jonathan with eyes gleaming with sadistic excitement . Half the group remained. The doctor attempted to stand his ground, but was stopped with a sharp stab to the ribs. Blood began to pour from the wound. Jonathan let out a strangled gasp, falling to his knees.

“Rest in peace, beast” His assailant spat, preparing to finish him off. But before he could, a raven swooped down with razor like talons and ripped the blade from his hand. Within moments the air began to be filled with blackened feathers, as a swarm descended onto the gang. Jonathan’s vision faded as men where shredded and clawed blood. The last fell as a pair of soft hands cupped his face, losing consciousness completely.

* * *

 She almost lost him. The thought hurt her more than anything. Camellia, exhausted from carrying Jonathan back to his home, gently tended the raw wound. His once white shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the smooth skin of his chest. The witch had never seen, or wanted to see, so much of a man before. Camellia paused to check if he was any closer to coming round. He looked so peaceful. An internal scolding made her avert her eyes.

Finally, Jonathan regained a small measure of consciousness, mind slightly delirious from the poison and blood loss. He smiled weakly up at her, mumbling something she couldn't quite understand. The witch was about to return the gesture when he suddenly leaned in and softly kissed her. She let out a muffled noise of surprise.

"...Thank you..." He whispered, falling back into bed. Camellia sat there for a minute, stunned.

_'What the hell was that?!'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the ending is crappy, I have no idea how to write romance.  
> Happy Holidays Everyone :)


	14. Used To The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've made mistakes, the Lord struck me down  
> Caught in a landslide, lost underground  
> I hear them gates, swing open wide  
> Come close to midnight, hell sent me down
> 
> And then my eyes got used to the darkness  
> And everyone that I knew  
> Was lost and so long forgotten after you  
> -Used to the darkness by Des Rocs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok you know that I'm sorry so lets just get on with it. Not been writing this due to moving on to other things, but I am determined to keep going with this. New Red Dead Redemption fanfic might be out in the next month or so, if anybody's interested.

The night was calm, and the room was saturated with homely comfort. Jonathan opened his eyes to peer sleepily at his surroundings. On his desk sat a single sunflower, it's joyous yellow colour illuminated in the dim candle light. A gift from Camellia.

 _‘Wait...Camellia? Yes she was here and...Oh no, Jonathan you fool!’_ He scolded himself, covering his eyes in sheer embarrassment. The door opening brought him out of his thoughts.

“Mr Jonathan, Apologies, I was just checking on you” Avery explained quietly, obviously relieved at his employers recovery. Jonathan smiled warmly at the older man and waved away his concern.

“It's quite alright, Avery” He began tiredly. “The woman who brought me home, is she still here?”  
“Yes sir, she is downstairs with Mrs Reid” The butler replied, moving out of the way just in time as Jonathan dashed for the stairs. He could hear his mother's voice and persistent cough from behind the living room door. The women looked up as he entered. Camellia was a tad uncomfortable and awkward, still wearing her burlesque outfit, not that Emelyne seemed to mind in the slightest.

“Ah! Jonathan my son, good to see you up” the older woman chirped joyfully over the rim of her tea cup.

“Well, do come sit with us dear”  
The Vampyr did as he was told, the last place to sit right beside Camellia. She smiled up at him happily, with just a touch of shyness. Emelyne seemed to pick up the air between them, her eyes gleaming with amusement. For the next while, the group sat in odd silence, until Emelyne decided to push things along.

“Goodness, I am tired. Good night to you both, and don't stay up too late chatting” She said getting up, pausing as another cough racked her frail form. Jonathan knew what his mother was up to and offered her to stay, only to be waved off with a smile. Once the older woman left, the ekon sat there awkwardly, trying to come up with something to say.

“Thank you...”  
Camellia smirked at him sweetly.

“Your welcome” She signed back. Swallowing the lump in his throat, the vampyr spoke again.

“Listen, about last night...please, do not think less of me”  
The young witch chuckled silently.

“I could never, Jonathan” She replied, gently taking his hand. Both relieved and surprised, he returned the gesture with a soft squeeze, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. For some reason, it just felt so natural.

“Camellia, I-“

“A visitor to see you, Mr Jonathan” Avery announced at the open door, a familiar gentleman standing beside him. Edgar stared at the pair with an odd look, while his face remained completely neutral.

“My friend, I'm sorry to interrupt. There are things that we need to discuss”  
Jonathan quickly let go of the girl's hand as she looked away in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.

“No, it's fine Edgar. Please follow me upstairs” He replied with a rather forced cough. Jonathan could feel the man's eyes on his back as they headed to his office, continuing after he closed the door behind them.

“So, what brings you here?”

“I was told that you had been injured, it's good to see you have healed”

“Thank you, Edgar, but it's not the only reason is it?”  
Dr Swansea shook his head.

“No. I came to ask for some of your research on witches, if I could?” He inquired, his voice betraying hope, and eyes straying to the rack of blood samples on the shelf beside him. Both Jonathan’s brow and stomach knotted with concern.

“Edgar...” He began sternly “...What are you up to?” The smaller man's bravado crumbled slightly.

“Nothing so terrible Jonathan, though I doubt you believe me”  
Turning away, the other man let out a sigh as he cleared his desk.

“I want to trust you, I really do. Just... give me some time” He replied, glancing over his shoulder. Edgar stood with his head hung low and hands uncharacteristically shoved in his coat pockets.

“I understand...” he began with a slow nod “I won't take up anymore of your time”. With that, the doctor slipped quietly from the room. Jonathan massaged his temples in an attempt to soothe his growing headache, before checking in on his guest.

Meanwhile, on the street below, Edgar Swansea hurriedly made his way back to the Pembroke. He dabbed the nervous beads of sweat from his head with a handkerchief, a tube of stolen blood heavy in his pocket. Two down, one to go.

* * *

Gerard Dorian, witch hunter and new head of the guard of Priwen, sat polishing a piece of armour. The desk in front of him was scarred with evidence of it's previous owner, littered with scratches, ink blotches and cigarette burns. He had never met Geoffrey McCullum, but his influence seemed to be everywhere. Or _was_ everywhere, given the man was dead. Not that Gerard was complaining, it saved him the trouble. A knock at the door was followed by a careful shuffle of feet as a timid looking rookie came to stand before him.

“Sir, we got you the leeches notes. The plan worked just like you said”

Gerard paused his cleaning, a smirk pulling on his lips.

“Hear that Sofia? You owe me a drink!”  
Across the room, said woman rolled her eyes.

“Not my fault that leech doesn't do his job, what kind of doctor ignores a poor girl with a wounded ankle? Probably too busy ogling that serving girl”

“My dear, you sound jealous!”

“Shut up”

Gerard chuckled out loud, looking back at the rookie, whose eyes where fixed on the silver breastplate in his hands.

“Beautiful, isn't it?”  
The sudden question seemed to startle the boy.

“Y-Yes sir” He stuttered, obviously trying his best to sound unintimidated. Gerard’s grin widened. He held it up in the limited light, revealing masterfully drawn latin inscriptions engraved down the front.

“You know what this says?” He began.

“Malleus Maleficarum, The Hammer of Witches. This has been handed down from leader to leader, since the very first Sons of Raguel century's ago”

The fair haired witch hunter stood, coming to stand next to the boy and gripping his shoulder a little harder than necessary.

“You see, the steel its made from is blessed, no witch can kill the one who wears it. With this, my predecessors wiped out the witch plague from every corner of America.” The hunter added, his eyes gleaming.

“With this, witchcraft in Britain is as good as dead”.

* * *

 Jonathan arrived down stairs to see Camellia waiting patiently at the front door, obviously about to leave.

“You're going? But it's so late”.  
The young witch nodded, quickly signing her response.

“It would be wrong of me to intrude any longer”  
Within a moment, Jonathan came to stand in front of her.

“Nonsense, you are always welcome here. Please, stay, it's a long walk back to the dispensary”.

Camellia still seemed to consider herself intruding, looking down at the carpet. The Vampyr placed a hand softly on her bare shoulder, the other gently tipping her head up to look at him by the chin.

“I know you can look after yourself, but let me keep you safe. Just for tonight”.

At last she relented with a smile, and was led upstairs. They came to a stop outside Mary's old room, unlived in for quite some time. The girl paused to pick up the dead flowers at the door, as Jonathan showed her in.

“Help yourself to the wardrobe if you want to get into something more comfortable” He added, turning away to leave her in peace. A hand stopped him. Camellia tucked a now living flower into his shirt pocket, the pair mere inches apart.  
“Goodnight” She signed, making the doctor smile.

“Goodnight, Camellia”

“How about just Cami?”  
Jonathan seemed surprised, but nodded none the less.

“Cami...I like it”.

The next few minutes seemed to stop completely as neither party seemed willing to move. The witch found herself glancing from the vampyr’s soft gaze to his lips, him doing the same to her. For what ever reason, this was the moment they chose to kiss. One so soft and sweet that something warm bloomed in their chests. Jonathan wrapped an arm around her waist as the other cupped her cheek, while the girl’s hands rested on his chest. The world around them melted away, just for a moment.

Camellia pulled away first, a little out of breath, and a massive grin plastered across her flushed face. The doctor mirrored her expression, once pale cheeks stained a shade of pink, and without another word the pair bid each other goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this moving forward too quickly?  
> Also the nickname Cami is from AlexRylie.


	15. Something Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you feel it in the air Everything is changing world wasted by fear  
> Everything is changing cross too great to bear Une année sans lumières 
> 
> Fall down to your knees Pray for sweet salvation As the gloaming slowly creeps up while you are sleeping Until nothing's what it seems  
> There's nothing left to believe  
> -Something wicked this way comes by Raydia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What am I doing.  
> ***WARNINGS***  
> Non-consentual drug use.

Hospital food was awful, Geoffrey decided, letting the now cold porridge slop off his spoon. The hunter slumped back into bed, wanting nothing more than to tear his hair out in boredom. He lay there for a few moments before throwing off his covers and walking out the room. Deciding to go for a wander, Geoffrey followed the corridor past the wards, the doctors and nurses too busy to pay him any mind. Ahead, two nurses stood together, speaking in hushed tones. Not wanting to appear eavesdropping, McCullum pretended to intently read a nearby poster on the flu and strained to pick up the conversation.

“Are you sure Pippa?”

“Yes! Just the other night I walked past Dr Swansea’s office and saw him using the strangest looking equipment, on himself no less!” Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed. What was the idiot up to now? Within a matter of short minutes, he was climbing the stairs and reaching for Swansea’s office door. Thankfully it was unlocked. Geoffrey scanned the dark room for anything out of place, but nothing immediately stood out.

First he tried the shelves, then the desk, rummaging through the paper scattered carelessly the surface. Unable to see clearly he turned on the nearby lamp. Light flooded the area, illuminating a small test tube rack and a ink stained folder. The Irishman squinted to read the labels on the two glass tubes. G.M and J.R were the only writing visible, whatever they meant. Snatching up the folder, the first page seemed to list Swansea’s resent experiments.

_The first tests where a failure. Subjects incompatible. More samples needed. Jonathan has been doing research into these ‘witches’, I have to find out what he knows. What little information I have seems to suggest witches are for the most part infertile, so I was right to start with blood, but still, how to proceed?_

Geoffrey frowned in confusion, and continued reading.

“Can I help you McCullum?” His head snapped up to lock eyes with the man himself, standing in the doorway with a furious look on his face.

“The hell are you up to Swansea!?” The hunter growled, as the other man marched forward and snatched the paper from his hand. “That is none of your concern” Swansea spat back, ushering him out. As the door slammed in his face, Geoffrey ran a hand through his hair.

“...Shite" He mumbled, looking around to see if anyone saw. McCullum headed of down the corridor in search of Reid, his resent discovery heavy in his mind Mean while, Dr Swansea frantically stashed his research away in case the hunter returned. A breeze across the back of his neck gave him pause.

“Hello, Doctor” Standing at the now open window was a woman, dressed in long black robes and with inky rivers running under her time worn skin. The doctor startled at her sudden appearance, but soon corrected himself.

“Oh it's just you, please come in" The witch bowed her head in thanks and stepped lightly onto the carpet.

“Did you get what I asked, dear Edgar?” The man held up the newly procured tube of blood for her to see, before labelling it for later. “Good, now our work can really begin”

“Are you sure about this? A hybrid of wytch, Vampyr and mortal?”

“No, you must chose only either Ekon or man, not both. Man would be best. I leave you now with this, it will tell you what to do" She ordered, handing him a large leather bound book. The doctor took it hesitantly, flicking through its ancient pages.

“This will work" He assured as the woman climbed back out the window, stopping to look back over her shoulder.

“It has to" With that, Edgar was alone, and a lot needed to be done. The ritual had to be done tonight.

* * *

 For three days, Camellia stayed with Doctor Reid. She continued to work at the Ruby Skull while he began making up for the notes he lost, but in the few hours they had together, they barely left each others side. The young witch didn't really know how to describe their relationship anymore. Were they courting? Dorothy seemed to think so, and insisted on listing off the unspeakable things she would inflict on Jonathan should he do anything out of line.

However on this night, Camellia was alone and on her way to the Pembroke. Jonathan had sent her a note that asked that she wait for him there in his office, as tonight he wanted to develop new ways of identifying witches. She arrived early and so began casually browsing the shelves filled with numerous medical text books. She hummed to herself quietly, until she sensed a presents behind her.

“Miss Camellia, good to see you again” Said Doctor Swansea, standing in the shadows of the doorway. The girl smiled at him politely, and greeted him with a nod.

“I came to tell you that Jonathan is going to be a bit late, so asked me to start the experiment ahead of his arrival” Swansea continued casually, gesturing to the hallway. Camellia’s smile faltered but managed to keep her discomfort off of her face. Despite this she followed him to his office, and tried to ignore the bad feeling in her gut. He smiled and opened the door to his office for her. As soon as she stepped over the threshold, she felt the cold sting of a needle puncture her neck. Camellia fell to carpeted floor as what ever it was took affect almost immediately, paralyzing her. The doctor stood over her, his expression deep and sorrowful.

“Please forgive me, I have no choice, But I promise you will not be harmed. It will all be over soon".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whas a little hesitant to post this chapter.


	16. Something Wicked (Part 2)

Deep below London, the coven gathered. In a damp vault older than the crumbling Roman ruins above, wytches from all corners of Britain knelt in prayer around a murky shallow spring, while the rest prepared the offering. Camellia fought tirelessly back against the bony hands that held her. They dressed her in a thin cotton robe and painted arcane symbols on her pale skin. Watching all the while, was the woman she once called mother.

“My sweet, you know I have no choice in this, our lord demands a vessel” The older witch began. “And since you stole my hunter, I have to improvise”

 _‘How horrible for you'_ Camellia thought sarcastically, feeling anger bubble up her chest. At that moment, Dr Swansea interrupted to declare that it was time. She made sure to glare daggers at him as she was dragged passed. The girl found herself forced harshly to her knees in front of the pool. Mother, or Anora as she should call her, addressed the impatient crowd.

“My friends pray that our lord can hear us, for tonight is the night where the war really begins”

* * *

Something was wrong, he could feel it. Jonathan marched towards the heart of Whitechapel and to the dispensary, barely noticing the world around him. As he turned the corner, a peculiar sight confronted him. Outside Mr Petrescu’s door demanding to get in was Geoffrey McCullum, who had the sunken and drained look of someone deprived of a good night's sleep. The hunter noticed him, and gave up with the exasperated man at the door, instead turning his attention to the vampyr.

“Reid, there you are, tell your friend to let me in!” Geoffrey demanded in an almost panicked manor. Jonathan frowned in confusion.

“Why, do you need medical attention?”

“No, I've been looking for the guard everywhere and heard that one's in there”

“I see...Mr Petrescu please allow McCullum through” The Romanian nodded begrudgingly, opening the door for them. Geoffrey didn't pause for a second and marched through the house to the dispensary door. He was already searching the beds by the time the doctor caught up with him. In the far corner coughing up rivets of blood, was captain Lee, the very man who had told Jonathan of McCullum’s disappearance. He scrunched up his eyes in pain, and when they opened, the face of Priwen's supposedly late leader stared down at him.

“M-McCullum?! I thought you where dead!”

“Who the fuck told you that?”

“Never mind that, what happened Lee?” Jonathan interrupted, kneeling beside the bed.

“My patrol was ambushed by witches, they had Dr Swansea and a girl with them, I'm the only one who made it".

McCullum shot the doctor a look, taking the moment to speak up.

“Where?”

“Southwark, near the embankment”

“Then let's go-"

“Hold on McCullum” Jonathan began. “We're going to need back up"

* * *

The pounding in her head worsened with every minute that passed. Not to mention that she was freezing in this dress, which did little to protect her from the cold of the water as she was lowered in. The other witches that gathered dropped a variety of different herbs and crushed gem stones, while Swansea finished his last preparations. The air was heavy with anticipation and buzzed with the essence of magic. Before being completely submerged, the doctor forced open her mouth to pour in the potion critical to the ritual’s success. Camellia gagged at the bitter taste as her whole body shivered, before being shoved below the surface.  
The water brought with it darkness and the familiar whisper of the shadow Morgaine. She remained silent, instead taking Camellia’s hand and leading her far from the waking world.

The next thing she knew she was thrown into the middle of a battle somewhere in the distant past, men in metal armour fighting each other with swords and shields. Camellia looked down to see she wasn't herself anymore. Her lean feminine body was replaced by that of a man, but the black sting of witchcraft remained as strong as ever. Her new body scanned the battle field, locking gazes with the icy blue eyes of a Vampyr king.

_‘Arthur’_

Before the witch knew what was happening their blades clashed with bone crushing force.

“Die murderer" Her body hissed in a deep voice, just as her opponent sliced her across the chest. The pain was almost unbearable, but she gathered enough strength to lash out a beam of raw magical energy, shattering the kings sword into many sharp pieces. As strong as a hurricane, the ensuing flash of light dislodged her from her host, dumping her back into the dark abyss. Something wet and coppery soaked her and the ground, no doubt a vast ocean of blood. Everything grew silent. Afraid, Camellia lifted her head to find the man she once inhabited staring down at her with a smug look plastered across his face. Here he was, Mordred himself.

“So, we finally meet. You know I almost feel sorry for you, being just the means to an end" He told her almost casually. Camellia scowled as she struggled to her knees, only to collapse in pain from deep in her insides.

“I know, I know, it hurts doesn't it. But don't worry it won't last long...” He added, wrapping a hand around her throat and lifting her to her feet. Mordred seemed to enjoy watching her gasp for air, until suddenly his expression darkened. From out of nowhere an invisible force pulled her from his grip and dragging her back into the waking world. She spluttered and coughed as she resurfaced, before finally being wrapped in a familiar set of arms.

“It's ok Cami, I've got you” Jonathan whispered, cradling her soaking wet body close to his chest. Around them, McCullum, Elizabeth and Mary fought to clear the chamber of witches. Anora and Edgar ran for the door, only to be tripped up by Mary's shadows. The bag holding Swansea’s research flew to the ground, scattering notes and breaking vials. The man frantically tried to scoop it up but was pulled away by his witch companion. Geoffrey left the vampire women to finish off the rest as he checked on Jonathan and the girl.

“Reid! How is she?”

“Not good, we need to leave, now!” He announced, picking up Camellia bridal style and leading the way out of the sewers, praying that she could hold on just a bit longer.


	17. Two Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two spirit, two spirit  
> Two spirit, two spirit
> 
> Time sped up and slowed down  
> Without regard for anyone  
> I called out from the deepest part  
> I feel concave, inverted for you  
> I'll be screaming through the afterlife  
> I'll be hunting for you, buried under flowers
> 
> Two spirit, two spirit
> 
> I want it back, I want it back  
> What was taken from me, I want it back  
> So, stop running from the weight of existence  
> Show me your insides  
> Show me what's underneath  
> Show me your bruises  
> Be your own God  
> -Two Spirit by Chelsea Wolfe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for lots of dialog. Oh and I put this song ^ because I feel it describes Camellia.  
> And sorry if people seem a bit ooc, or unrealistic.

He held her hand as she slept and watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Whatever magic the bastards subjected her to still lingered inside, so strong he could almost taste it. The hospital was quiet at this time of night so they had slipped in unnoticed, and were now waiting in Jonathan’s office for any news from McCullum. As the doctor checked her pulse for the third time in twenty minutes, he noticed a patch of blacked veins on her wrist that looked to be moving beneath her skin. He frowned, confused, and traced the lines up her arm, stopping as she began to move. Slowly, her eyes creeped open and instantly found him, making a small tired smile light up her face.

“Hello love...” Jonathan whispered, gently bringing their heads together. Reaching up softly the witch cupped his face and let out a shaky sigh of relief. From the door, McCullum let them have this moment, but found himself unable to look away. It was odd seeing a leech act this way, as he had always known vampires were harsh and brutal creatures. He'd fought enough to prove it. But seeing this...he didn't know what to think. Maybe some were different? Maybe. Shaking his head, McCullum walked in, letting out a loud cough to announce his arrival. The doctor turned to look at him, searching his face for answers.

“Geoffrey, did you find anything?”

“Yeah, but it got a bit damaged in the scuffle” The hunter replied, handing over the bag Swansea had dropped as he fled the scene. Jonathan peered inside to find familiar smelling blood staining almost everything inside. Gingerly he pulled out the only notebook, picking off the occasional bit of glass. Flipping it open, he was greeted with page after page of occult diagrams and scientific scribblings. As Jonathan read, the uneasy feeling in his stomach grew.

“My god...What is this?”

The vampire handed it over to the witch to see if she had any clue as to what it all meant. With each word her face drained of what little colour she had.

“Cami what's wrong?” The doctor asked worriedly as she let the book fall into her lap. With shaky hands she answered.

“Before I tell you, there is something you need to know Jonathan. The coven is trying to resurrect Mordred, the witch who killed Arthur, to...get revenge”

“Arthur? As in King Arthur? Why, what does it have to do with you?”

At this moment, McCullum spoke up.

“When I was under the witches spell, she forced me to hunt Camellia down, ranting about how she stole from her. You where in the coven, weren't you?”

The girl nodded, shame written across her features.

“Yes, but I ran, taking the spell book they needed so they couldn't use it to rise Mordred. But it seems I was too late" She began. “This spell is made up of two different rituals, meant to bring some of his power into our world, allowing him to pass back across the vale, but only one is written here"

“I don't understand”

“As a necromancer, most of his magic came from spirit realm, so once he was killed it became a sort of anchor, keeping him there”

“So did the spell work? Did we stop it in time?”  
Camellia looked down, unsure.

“I don't know”

“I guess all we can do is wait and see” Geoffrey added as the doctor stood from the bed.  
“We don't have much choice. In the mean time, Dr Swansea has a lot to answer for...” The vampire growled. “Let's all get some rest for tonight, we will continue this tomorrow, my patient needs to heal”

McCullum gave a short nod before disappearing out the door. Jonathan retired to his workbench in order to continue studying the book. Turning over in bed, Camellia willed herself to fall asleep, trying hard to ignore the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

 It took three weeks for any clue of Doctor Swansea’s whereabouts to surface, much to Jonathan’s frustration. Not only that, but Priwen had all but disappeared into thin air, driving McCullum to nightly search parties. Former captain Lee had helped as best as he could.

Camellia readied herself in the dressing room mirror of the Ruby Skull as she waited to be called on stage. The higher ups had been impressed by her performance that she had got the position as a dancer full time. As she brushed the red locks out of her face, she noticed something off. Several brilliant white strands stood out against her hair. Not only that but her witches mark had gotten so vivid that she had to hide it under a bandage. A mild panic settled in her chest, and the witch knew that she had to feed again, but hadn't since that night on the river bank. It wouldn't be long before her mask crumbled.

“Come on dear, we have some special guests this evening” Sofia called as she strut past, leading the way to the VIP rooms. Voices could be heard arguing as she opened the door.

“...Do you not see? We want the same thing Redgrave-"

“Lord Redgrave to you, Mr Dorian” The Ekon corrected, glancing over to the two women at the door. Camellia felt a chill go down her spine, as the wytchhunter Gerard Dorian eyed her up and down.

_...A hateful, violent man. Run! Before he catches you!..._

“Well do sit with us dears" Redgrave called, gesturing to the couch the two men sat on. Sofia glided over with a sway to her hips and a devilish grin, dragging the girl with her. Gerard and the older woman gave each other a subtle look of recognition as she sat calmly beside the lord. Much to her discomfort, Camellia found herself pulled onto Dorian's lap, almost shivering at the cold armour pressing into her back and his arm around her waist, holding her in place.

 _“No, I will not be afraid anymore”_ She told herself.

“Now, what is this about Dr Reid? He has been at the forefront of Ascalon's investigation”

“And where is the progress? The information? The answers? No, lord Redgrave, he is slowing you down!”

“And you can do any better?”

“Need I remind you of my profession?” The wytchhunter deadpaned, before leaning forward to whisper into Camellia’s ear.

“Isn't that right, wytch?”

She froze at those words, but refused to show it as he continued.

“Run to your doctor and tell him I'm coming for him, even if I have to burn London down to find him...”

With that he released her from his grip. But to his surprise, instead of the panic he expected, the girl stood calmly despite her fear before walking to the door. At the door she turned back to look at him one last time, her eyes a warning. Not even the bouncer moved to stop her as she walked out the club, head held high, searching for the man who could put an end to Gerard Dorian once and for all.

* * *

 At last, he had a name for his enemy. The girl Camellia handed him the newly written note with the information he desperately needed. McCullum thanked her profusely as he rushed out the door. Content with what was going to happen next, Camellia made her way to Jonathan’s office, finding him glaring down at the ritual book. His eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and disbelief when he saw her.

“Cami...I...” The words failed to form in his mouth.

_“What am I going to tell her?”_

The girl instantly knew that it had to do with what was in the unseen part of the book, snatching it up before he could stop her. Jonathan could not stand the look that dawned on her face as she read.  
“Is it true?!” She signed in intense confusion as he wrapped her up in a hug.  
“....There’s only one way to know...”

The girl shut her eyes as she counted her breath, before nodding slowly. Neither made a sound during the examination, until it was done, Jonathan barely believing the words as he spoke them.

“Cami your-your pregnant...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What am I doing, what what am I doing.


End file.
